


Wicked Lullaby

by Whippoorwill_Grey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark, Dark Reylo, Dark Side Rey, Death, Depression, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Fluff and Smut, Hitchhiker, Horror, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Mental Health Issues, Minor Armitage Hux/Phasma, Occult, Oral Sex, Phasma Ships It, Pregnancy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Rough Sex, Self Harm, Serial Killers, Sex, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stockholm Syndrome, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Virgin Kylo Ren, leia is bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whippoorwill_Grey/pseuds/Whippoorwill_Grey
Summary: A camping trip quickly goes sour when Rey and her friend's pick up a hitch-hiker off of the side of the road. A hitch hiker who happily brings them home to meet the family.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

At first, it appeared to be nothing more than just a speck on the distant horizon of Kingsland, Texas.

The speck flickered, a distant fire against the boiling concrete, she couldn't keep her eyes off of it as the little Volkswagen bus whined on.

They had crossed into Texas but a day prior, and she was pretty sure they had gotten lost somewhere along the way. But the trip was meant to be fun, something for the group of friends as a celebration for finishing college. Something that would result in her meeting her biological parents for the first time.

Her parents apparently lived in Phoenix, Arizona. Something that was meant to be a surprise if Rose had not slipped up and spilled the beans. Which was okay, she didn't mind- it helped knowing before hand rather than walking into something that she was sure she wasn't ready for.

"We need to get gas soon." Finn buzzed from the driver's seat, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel in anxiety. He knew they were lost and was trying his best to play it off like the detour was planned. It wasn't. Poe and Rose chittered on in the backseat, going through the details of the situation.

They were cramped in together like a pack of sardines, already tired of traveling the past few days. The buzz of the radio rattled on in the background as the kid's debated how long it had been since the last rest stop.

"Listen, I haven't had any service the last three hours." Poe's voice bubbled, her mind writing him off as background noise.

"Yeah? Is that such a bad thing? This is a camping trip, and just because you can't text your girl toy!?"

The speck had grown, wiggling and obviously human.

She leaned forward grasping at the oh shit handle to leverage herself, ignoring the way the seatbelt bit into her collarbone. "There is someone walking."

"Oh great! We can stop and see if they know any directions to the nearest town." Finn responded, drawing sudden interest from the backseat.

"Don't stop!" Poe stated, matter-a-fact. His voice suddenly icy as he leaned between the driver seat and passenger seat.

"What? Why?"

"Because! That's just something you don't do, they can be a creep or something."

"Plus, they are walking on the side of the road in the middle of the day, in the middle of nowhere!" Rose chirped.

Rey stayed silent, watching. Something about this felt off, and it wasn't until they got closer that her stomach rolled anxiously.

The kid was no older than ten, at least, as he walked the broad stretch of highway ahead of them. Skin and bones, clutching onto a ratty mess that Rey assumed had once resembled a teddy bear. They passed him, and he visually hesitated as Finn began to slow, the crackle of tires against gravel split the air.

Dust kicked up, and suddenly the van was in uproar.

"Finn WHY DID YOU JUST STOP, DIDN'T I JUST TELL YOU?!" Poe and Rose were shrieking, their voices ringing through her as she peered at the side mirror; her throat suddenly bone dry.

"Rey roll down your window, will you? Please." Finn's voice begged, calm and collect, obviously ignoring his friends. She continued to watch the steady gait of the kid from the side mirror, not bothering to look away to her friend.

She knew that they needed the information, and they needed gas. But there was something about the kid that seemed off, like he was hurt, like there was something _wrong_. She began to roll down the manual window inviting the dust in, only to watch it instantly invade the innards of the bus.

The van became silent just as the crunch of gravel announced itself, and then there he was. Bright green eyes peering up at her from just the other side of the passenger window. He was very young, left eye almost swollen shut with heavy bruising. An violent umber shade peeled it's way across his forehead and cheeks from obvious over exposure to the sun.

"Hey there little guy, are you okay?" Finn spoke up, leaning over Rey to get a good peak, smiling as if this were an every day event. The kid hardly bothered looking at him as he kept his eyes on her, as if he were committing her face to memory. "We were looking for the closest town, do you need a ride?"

"Yes sir, the next town is just up ahead." A weak voice heavily accented with southern drawl escaped the chapped lips of the kid as he stood watching, his free arm coming up to point in the direction of town. He was so young underneath the dirt and grime smeared across his face, that it made Rey's heart ache. She couldn't pull her eyes away from him as he continued to watch her back, much calmer than what she would have expected.

"Get in the back, and we will take you to town. That's where you're heading, right buddy?" Finn gleamed, obviously happy that the town was near, and not really paying attention to the odd fascination between passenger and stranger.

The child's fascination seemed to snap long enough to get into the back of the van, and as soon as the side door closed the Van riveted back to life. Chugging back onto the long strip of highway, and Rey realized they had yet to see another vehicle.

The day was beginning to crawl to evening as the sun crawled towards the horizon. The buzz of the air conditioning put her in a trance as she resumed staring out the window, trying to ignore the feeling of being stared at.

"So, what's your name, little man?" Finn asked, trying to kill the tension.

It took so long for him to reply that she thought he wouldn't answer. "Armitage."

"That's an interesting name!!" Her friend whirred, and she couldn't help but look over at him appreciatively. He was a good guy, always trying to spark up conversations and make people feel comfortable, he was every bit of the therapist she knew he would come to grow into. He had begun to tap his index fingers to imitate the drums on the radio.

But everything lapsed into silence once more until the first trickle of life jutted out in the distance, and the outline of a sign broached the side of the road. It instantly sparked life back into the kid, because he began to shift audibly in the backseat, talking in something that sounded similar to gibberish before speaking up.

"The store is just up here to the right mister. Thank you so much for picking me up! I thought I was never going to make it, Auntie was suppose to pick me up, an she musta forgot. She does that sometimes." And suddenly the group rounded into the town that stood flimsy against the dirt of the desert, barely more than a ghost town.

A store, with an old rusty pickup parked out front, sat on the very edge of this town. It's wooden carcass splintered with a old vintage open sign that reflected in the splintering heat.

From the sight of it, the audible intake of breath whimpered from behind her. The kid had begun tremble from what she could tell by glancing over her shoulder.

She hadn't noticed it before, but the kid smelled. As if roadkill had chewed him up and spit him out, and if it weren't for the glint of buttons on the face of the bear, she would have thought _it_ was pure roadkill.

  
Quickly she swiveled around in her seat, nausea coming in brutal waves as Finn pulled up in the parking lot. Dust kicking up in thick clouds as the van screeched to a halt.

She pulled at the door, getting out as quickly as she could without trying to be too obvious.

And then he was there, standing beside her, looking at her in the way that she knew too well. Pure fear radiated from him as he clutched at the bear, tattered white shirt rumpled and caked with something that looked like old blood. He was covered head to toe In bruises, his legs bloody through the holes worn out around the knees of the jeans. He was being abused, it was obvious; something she knew all to well after years of being in the system.

"Are you going to be okay?" She murmured, aware of the strange looks from her friends as they piled out of the car. Stiff from the ride, weary because of the little boy.

He only looked at her, bright red hair clumped up and brown around his ears because of the amount of sweat accumulation. He looked like he was about to say something if it weren't for the loud caw of a voice.

"ARMI!" a deep warble shot through the air, and suddenly the kid was trembling more. "I thought I told you to not wander off boy!" and then he was scampering away from her.

She looked in the direction of the voice, instantly spotting the older man.

"The name's Luke." He had said, as the group flocked into the store after a few awkward moments. The redheaded boy had disappeared, leaving them to the likes of the store owner. He wasn't a tall man, nor was he a big man, but something about him was clearly different. His meaty hands were burrowed into the pockets of the faded blue overalls that appeared to look like they had never been washed. He stood just at the door to the store watching them all collect themselves, before he disappeared inside.

The store looked rundown and abandoned the more she stood there, collecting herself as her lungs burned from the intense heat and the dust kicked up from the van. She had tugged self consciously at her t-shirt, already stained with sweat, and looked down at the baggy mom jeans she had insisted on wearing because they were comfortable.

An arm looped through hers, pulling her from her sudden self evaluation.

"He's a bit weird, but at least he knows the kid." Rose beamed, her brown eyes swirling with ease. Reminding her of the first time they met in Rey's first semester. All bright and sunny, a nursing student doing art classes. She was everything Rey wasn't, and that somehow helped her feel more balanced in all the years they had been friends.

So, arm in arm, the girls walked towards the store idly talking about the old rusty vending machine sitting propped up against the wall of the building . The boys had already gone inside, Rey realized,  as they pushed through the screen door and spotted Finn standing at the register.

The older man stood there, eyes cast not at the man in front of him, but at her and Rose.

A grey beard swallowed up the bony planes of his face as his bright blue eyes flickered back and forth between her and her group. "What can I do for you today?" He smiled, his teeth yellow and abnormally long.

"Just need some gas." Finn quipped, pulling out his wallet, attracting the interest of the store owner whose hands twitched at the sight of the green bills. Rose had let go of her arm and went to stand beside Finn's side, watching with avid curiosity as the older man buzzed on about the barbecue of the day. Her stomach gave a rumble, and the sound of food sounded heavenly. She stepped forward, about to say something, when she felt a hand yank her from her position.

And then she was being pulled away by Poe, his hand grasping hers tightly as they stalked to the back of the store. Leaving Rose and Finn at the front to converse with Luke.

"Is it just me or is this town fucking crazy?" He hissed under his breath, hands running through his curly hair. And why did he have to be so attractive? She gulped, watching him fidget.

"We've only been here for a few minutes." She mumbled in a whisper, getting a strange sense of Deja vu. She knew what small towns were like, she had spent years in and out of foster homes, and a rickety old store was nothing compared to what she had seen. It actually hurt that he stood there with enough balls to judge a place like this, when he was the one that knew most about her past. Well, other than Finn.

He stopped, eyeing her with unbridled emotion.

"Are you okay? You've been acting strange this entire time. You've been quiet." and suddenly he was closer, hands resting on her shoulders, bringing her in with his alluring presence. She had to glance away to keep from unraveling.

How could she explain? She didn't necessarily call for this trip, and she didn't ever necessarily state that she ever wanted to meet her parents. Not after they practically abandoned her, and left her to the wolves of the world. Or the fact that this entire time Poe kept looking at her like this, with his beautiful eyes, and soft smiles. Like he _liked_ her or something.

"I'll be okay, I just...don't feel well." She tried to smile, her heart suddenly aching. She was never going to be good enough. They were her family, five years of knowing one another, of going through the best and hardest years of college with one another. It was hard, looking at these people and seeing how much they loved her, giving her these monumental gifts of appreciation when she had nothing to give them back. This trip only proved how lousy of a friend she was, and she could hardly stand herself.

"Listen, we don't have to keep going. We can always turn around and go back home." And when he said home her heart fluttered, because home sounded really nice. It surely beat the dust and grit of Texas. But they couldn't, they'd come this far with this much determination. And if she called it quits it would only prove her theory.

"We've made it this far." She forced a smile, knowing he would see through it, and he did for a split second just as Finn announced himself out of nowhere.

"Have you seen Rose?"

The two looked at him eyebrows raised, and Rey shook her head. "No, she was up there with you- the last time I checked."

Finn made a face, looking confused before turning on his heel to go back through the way he came. He looked more agitated than she had ever seen him.

She followed, quickly, suddenly more aware of the silence in the store, and began to notice things that she hadn't when first stepping in. The store had become more creepy, more alive the longer she stood there. The walls wiggled to life, and the bubbling sound of machines trickled through her, crafting a dreading feeling of being watched. The taxidermy on the walls watched wearily with their oddly fixated eyes that looked too human for her to ever forget. And if it weren't for Poe following close behind, she would have stopped and inspected the place more closely. 

"Y'all have a good day out there." Luke's voice croaked from the register, the nervous glint in his eye gave way to an amused smile that split his face. His expression wormed into her brain as both her and Poe emptied out of the store and into the blinding light of the parking lot.

Finn stood, pumping gas, a look of concern was etched into his face as they neared. "Rose isn't out here, I think she went to the bathroom..." He stated as Poe began to pile back into the van, obviously still on edge about the entire situation. She only stood there, listening to the whine of the gas pump. "I'll go back in and wait on her." She watched her friend relax a little as she turned on her heel, and began walking back to the store entrance. She hated that Rose didn't say anything before going to the restroom, because that was their deal. Never leave the other alone, especially in strange places.

Rose was the reason of this rule, since she was always being approached by men who were creepy. She was a beautiful girl who radiated sunshine and defined the definition of womanly charm, curves and gracefulness along with the sweet attitude always resulted her getting into weird situations, and Rey felt as if she had to be her protector. She didn't mind scaring the creeps off, because it was what had kept her alive growing up. Always being scrawny and mean as shit came in handy in tight situations, especially situations like this.

She climbed the stairs of the porch and walked through the screen door without hesitation. Knowing for some reason that Luke had been watching the entire time. She walked to the counter and peered at him, indifference clear on her face before she gave him a smile. "Hey, you got a bathroom in here? My friend just disappeared on us and I thought I'd come and check on her." Her voice was stern enough to make the old man chuckle and cock his head.

"yeah I think she walked to the back while me and that colored boy was talkin'" She nodded, her hand tapping on the counter before she turned and began walking her way through the aisles of the store, eyes flickering back over her shoulder towards the old man who watched from his counter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She had waited for what felt like thirty minutes before she walked to the old wooden door in the very back of the building, rapping on it softly. "Hey, Rose? You okay?"

The back hallway was dimly lit with yellow bulbs that flickered non consistently. Cobwebs and dust ate up the entirety of the walls, hiding old newspaper clippings and odd photographs that she gave up on reading.

She leaned close, pressing an ear to the surface of the door, hearing nothing but a drip of water hitting something wet on the other side. She began knocking louder. "Rose!!! Its Rey! Let me in!" She called, knuckles catching splinters from trying to open the door, and she was beginning to panic because her friend seemed perfectly fine moments ago. And what if she wasn't in here? What if she was actually lost? She began to lose her shit, trembling against the frame of the door with curdled rage.

"Miss?" A whispered voice tugged at the edge of her shirt, pulling her to the present. And it was the little boy from earlier, standing close, reeking of vomit and death. "I don't think shes in there." He whispered, nervous eyes flickering towards where the front of the store was located. "I didn't see her go in there...I...I saw her follow you and that man to the back..and" And he was stuttering, shaking, and no longer holding his teddy bear. He was wringing his hands around the tail of his shirt in short jerky motions, and it began to make her skin crawl. She turned from the door and leaned closer, trying to sort through what he was trying to say.

 _She tried following them to the back?_ Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. "What are you trying to say to me? That my friend was taken?" She couldn't hold herself together as she began to tremble. They made a deal to never get separated in strange places, they made a fucking deal, and it was her fault for being stupid and allowing herself to get all caught up on Poe. She tried the breathing exercises her therapist taught her, but they weren't working.

And the boy was nodding as if his life were depending on it, and his dirty knuckles were digging into the fabric of the grey cotton shirt she was wearing. She nodded once, licking her lips anxiously as her hands came up to her face. She hadn't felt this lost In years, not since living with Plutt and that in itself was a different feeling all together. She tried gripping the door behind her to calm herself before the boy was whimpering. "We need to leave" he whimpered, still clutching at her, clinging to her as if she were suppose to save him or something. "Please, we need to leave before they realize that you know." His eyes were bulging out of his head, and she was moving following him through the stacked aisles and towards the door she didn't come in.

"Hey, my friends...I need to tell my friends." She hissed, stopping abruptly, making the kid send out low whine of distress. He was shaking more than he had been earlier, and it was becoming more and more real. Something was seriously wrong, and she was standing there wasting time.

"Don't, no, no no..." He whimpered, snot dripping from his cherry red face, tears had begun to leak from his eyes. "Follow me, its safer...we will get to your friends I-if they haven't already." He whispered, it was quick and messy, half sounding like gibberish if it weren't for the fact that she was zeroed in on what he was saying. She nodded, knowing if she could just get out of the fucking store that she could make her way around the building and break for it. But Rose.

 _Rose._ Her throat burned, she couldn't believe that she she'd almost forgot about her friend. What kind of friend was she? She stiffened, listening to the silence of the store save the silent drone of the air conditioning. She needed to find her friend. The little boy watched her, curiosity burned back into his bloodshot eyes, and for a second the avid interest had turned into one of complete hunger.

She took a step back, watching as he heaved a shutter, breaking down more from her resistance. "Please, we need to leave." His voice broke, cracking at the end of the sentence, and her mind was playing tricks on her. She grabbed his hand and let him lead her towards the back door that had an exit sign on it. It was all quick, and the ring of the bell as they opened the door made her rush forward into the brightness and heat.

And suddenly the boy wasn't there, and a old cackle wracked its way into her brain before something came crashing against her skull.

 

 

 

A steady pulse echoed from behind her skull, waking her ever so slowly from unconsciousness. Making her realize that something was being carefully wiped across her face. "I know your kind-" A voice murmured, it was a woman's voice, so soft and barely above a whisper. It would have been motherly if it weren't the fact that she was tied up, stretched tight so she couldn't move. A small whimper escaped her as she opened her eyes, blinking in pain. "nothing but cruelty and ridicule for my boy, all the time he was growing up." The woman, an older woman from what she could tell within the darkness, smiled. Her soft hands  patting the side of her face to bring her fully into the present.

As soon as the smile started, it fell. As if a switch had been turned off, and she was suddenly glaring. Anger carved into the shadows of her face. "Does ANYONE CARE ABOUT ME AND MY BOY?" She growled, voice cracking like a whip into the darkness, just as Rey's face whipped to the side, burning furiously from suffering the back of a hand.

Her body jolted, waking up instantly, and she was trembling. She moaned through the gag that cut into the edges of her mouth, choking on the tightness and the taste. More than aware that she and the elderly woman were the only ones in the room.

Darkness swallowed the room, save for a small candle melting into the table next to the bed. It flickered, casting deep macabre shadows against the walls of dancing devils and lingering promises. She squirmed, rattling the chain holding her in place against what she assumed to be a bed.

She calmed down after the soft clucking of the woman who resumed dipping a rag into the bucket next to her, rinsing it with care before shifting back towards her. "You woke up just In time for dinner, dear." An odd smile slit through her face, and she was once again running the rag over Rey's face with care. Petting the area that she slapped, as if she didn't mean to. "Now it'll be just you, I'm afraid, your friends were rather rude." She said, fingertips caressing into Rey's hair, feeling around her skull to assess the damage before stopping all together.

Rey whined against the gag, feeling the skin on her lips split and bleed.

"HAN! Help me get this girl to the dinner table!" The older woman yelled, and very quickly she was being yanked up from the bed and lifted over broad shoulders. Her stomach rolled, nausea and pain mixing like a bad cocktail as her world shifted dangerously. She shut her eyes tight, trying to breathe out of her nose to keep from blacking out from the pain. Her heart thundered. Where was she? What the fuck happened? Where were her friends?

She tried to remain as calm as she could, knowing from past events that fear wouldn't do anything but make the situation worse. What she could do is obtain the details of the house, of the environment. Keep calm and formulate an escape plan as quickly as possible.

So, as they continued moving she listened to the creaking of the floor boards, and soaked in enough to know they were going down a flight of stairs. The house was at least two stories, maybe more.

Echoes of children playing gurgled up from below. 

The sound of heels against hardwood trailed behind them as they made their way to what was assumedly to be the dining room.

"Say hello to the guest!" The woman's voice floated from behind her as her world shifted upright, her body slamming into something hard, before feeling heavy metal chain being laced across her chest, tightening in the same painstaking way her wrists and ankles were. 

At first she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes as she listened to the different hellos, chorusing their way from different parts of the room. The heavy smell of bacon and other lingering foods combined into a heady mixture making her gut churn nervously. And she was opening her eyes to a massive dining room table surrounded a whole group of people, all eager and watching as the elderly woman fixed plates. The store owner watched, smiling mischievously from his chair before chuckling to himself.

"They weren't as easy as the last group were they Armi?." and then she was looking at the young boy, whose eyes watched her with the same hunger they had back at the store. Her stomach dropped, and everything became avidly clear. It was a set up, the boy was a trap to lure her and her friends in, but why? Where were her friends?

She blinked back tears, glancing around to see a younger girl around the same age as the boy. The girl watched the boy with bright clear eyes, she was equally as dirty as the rest of the table, but something about her being there made Rey's heart clench with fear. She looked so sad in her little chair, hand clasped onto the shirt of the red-head. The only thing that gave a hint that she was a girl was the old cotton blue dress that hung off of her frail form, pairing nicely with pale blonde hair that looked to have been cut by rusty scissors; by the way it cow licked up around her face and head.

Children, they were using children as bait. A disheveled mourning sound wheezed from her as she bit against her gag, trying to self evaluate herself enough to make sure if she was still in one piece. She sighed, thankful she hadn't been stripped of her clothes or manhandled in some way. 

"No." Armi spoke up after a moment,  glancing away from her and to the little girl beside him. Their appearances were so vastly different that Rey figured they weren't apart of the family, that they must be adopted in or something along those lines. 

"Don't be rude" The woman snapped, pulling her attention back to her as she clucked around in hen like fashion. Making sure the children got food first, before Luke, and then lastly turned to the big man that had gone by the name Han. He sat down at the table, leaving an empty chair just beside Rey; which sat at the furthest end. Han was a broad man, dirty from grease; maybe a mechanic of some sort, with greying hair that curled at his temples. He didn't bother looking at her, not like the rest of them have, and barely made a sound as he waited.

"Where is Kylo?" The woman's tone leeched out, and she rested her hands on Rey's shoulders. Her fingernails digging into the grey fabric of her shirt. 

"Dunno, probably in his room. He worked hard today, is been a long time since we brought in four." Luke quipped, and Rey noticed that none of them had yet touched their food. They, instead, watched the woman as if needing some sort of permission.

"Has he seen 'er?" 

"No Mrs. Leia,  he don't even know there was a fourth one." The young boy spoke up, leaning forward.

"Well then why did we keep her." She could hear Leia mutter under her breath before sighing. "well, I suppose we will let him decide then."  And then they were all looking at Rey, picking her apart, making her fidget in her chair with her silence.

Where were the others? She kept thinking, her hands twitching from the lack of circulation, and she flinched as Leia stomped twice. Her voice bellowing out a name that she could only assume was Kylo. What a strange name, and a strange family. She thought, her heart racing.

Why was she being kept here, sitting at the table fucking tied to a chair, while her friends were missing.

 A low groan of a door unhinging echoed from underneath them, and then a deep upsetting thrum of footfalls bounded underneath them, echoing as they made their way closer. She could feel it in her bones, rattling with every step taken. Whoever it was swung open a door down the hall, it whined against it's hinges before slapping shut. Making her tremble harder, tears flowing from her eyes and mixing with the copper taste of the gag. 

"Kylo honey, we've got food ready, and we've got you a little surprise from today." A soft motherly coo announced from behind her, and she knew that whoever this Kylo person; that he was now in the same room. Expecting him to say something, she waited, and waited; shaking nervously within her chair as she eyed the food on the table. And then everyone was digging in, eating, talking to one another. 

The chair next to her scraped against the hardwood floor before groaning as a person settled into it, making her jerk uneasily before her gag was untied from her mouth and it was Leia pulling her to look her in the face. "Hey honey, don't be rude now. You gotta eat. Now before you do though, tell me your name." She cooed, a napkin coming up to swaddle Rey's mouth as if she were a messy child.

"Rey." She huffed, voice hoarse and dry, she refused to look over at the man who sat just out of the corner of her eye. But Leia seemed to know this, her hands coming up on either side of Rey's face before she smiled.

"Rey, honey. Meet my son-Kylo." and then she was being forced to look at the man next to her.

Confusion swept through her instantly, as she looked at the very face she had seen hours before. It was Poe's face, handsome with a five o'clock shadow, his curly hair messy atop of his head; matted with a little blood. But the dark eyes peering from the sockets of her friend's were not, in fact, Poes. Actually, now that she looked at him close enough she could see fine stitching holding together the skin of the face, and the way it awkwardly cut off just before meeting broad shoulders. Poe was a broad guy, but this man. This man wearing his face was monstrous. 

She sat in shock, Leias fingernails digging into the skin of her cheeks as she stared into the dark eyes of the man next to her. A giant of a man that seemed to engulf the chair that he sat on. His hands were twitching and bloody as he greedily soaked up her reaction. She was so afraid she couldn't even formulate a scream, as she was struck there in silence, her mind not exactly understanding what she was looking at. Pieces weren't fitting together, and the way he watched her made her think that if she screamed now, she would probably die.

Leia began clucking again, and before Rey knew it, something was being shoved into her mouth. Food, she was being handfed like some child.

"Kylo baby, you've got to eat. Luke said you had a big day, and I know you did. We got enough food to last us for a good while." She hummed, wiping as mashed potatoes dripped from the corner of her mouth, she was eating silently. Still trembling. Her stomach rolled anxiously, but otherwise accepted the food.

The soft scrape of a fork shifted from beside her, and she knew by just listening that he was eating. Leia cooed again, cutting a slice of meat up before feeding it to her.

"Who are we eating tonight?" She asked, making Luke cackle from across the table.

"The pretty boy." And Rey stopped chewing, the taste in her mouth turning sour before she realized what was happening. They were fucking cannibals, and she was eating...she was eating... A high pitch keening noise came from the back of her throat. As everything settled in. The man next to her was wearing his face, and the rest of them were eating him. _She_ was eating him.

Leia's hand clasped around her mouth instantly, trapping it inside. "Eat it, if you don't eat it I swear to god." She mumbled, and Rey groaned; mortified. Tears flowing freely down her face. The room became quiet except for the soft clatter of eating utensils. 

They struggled like that for a few moments, Rey shaking so much that she was gagging against the woman's hand, as the woman tightened her hold and pinched her nose to stop her airway. They were eating Poe. Poe, who she had a crush on since the moment she set her eyes on him. Poe, the man who had stuck by her through a major mental breakdown in the beginning of college. Who had singlehandedly driven her to every therapy appointment, and sat with her late into the night as she cried about life. And what was she doing in return? _Eating_ him.

Her head throbbed, her heart seizing in her chest as she heaved low in her throat, her body shuttering. Making the old woman curse under her breath before letting go of her nose to grab at a nearby knife on the table. The blade came to bite the skin of her neck when a deep rumble echoed from beside her. And then it was the sound of the chair collapsing behind the man as he stood tall.

"Shes being rude _Ben_." The old woman hissed, letting go of Rey's face so she could throw up on herself. Her nerves so far gone that her vision was beginning to spot.

Another growl echoed.

"You're lucky that I don't kill her where she sits." The woman hisses, the knife glinting dangerously close to her face. "Fine, get her out of my sight. I'll deal with her attitude later. Shes your responsibility anyways." And the knife was being thrown across the room, panging off of something and collapsing to the floor. She couldn't calm down enough to fixate on her surroundings long enough to realize her chain was dropping from around her, and she was being lifted up as if she weighed nothing.

'I told you that he'd like her" The sound of Armitage's voice echoed throughout the room along with a rough cackle.

She was going to die, she was going to die with her hands and feet bound like some fucking animal, by a bunch of sick savages. By a sick animal who is wearing _his_ face.

She bellowed, screaming loudly until her throat burned and the pain in her skull throbbed. She hung there for a few moments, arms twisted behind her painfully, eyes closed as she fought the steady sway of the man's walk. He was massive, his shoulders pushing up into her abdomen painfully as she squirmed.

He had one massive hand wrapped around her upper thigh to balance her, keeping her as close to him as possible as they descended down a flight of stairs and into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Help me if you can  
> Its just that this is  
> Not the way I'm wired  
> So could you please,  
> Help me understand why."  
> \- The Outsider, A Perfect Circle

 

 It was silent. In the darkness. Almost as if it had all been an afterthought, and she was lying in bed after one of the usual nightmares. Except for here, it smelled of musk; of dirt and a underlying rot.

Here the ropes burned into skin, and being tied up to the bed wasn't apart of some wine drunk fantasy.

Here it stayed dark save for the soft glow of a oil lamp, or a candle; but the darkness wasn't the problem. It was the distant muffle of the creatures above, going about daily rituals, of the soft childish laughter that filtered through the floorboards and echoed amongst the walls. 

A reminder.

The problem was most undeniably the _thing_ that lingered just out of the corner of her vision. Of how it stalks close when it thinks she falls asleep. Always watching from afar, from the darkness, as if she were the threat- the _problem_. As if it were somehow shy, and not the one that wore the face of her friend. Of a possible lover.

Days and nights didn't exist, nothing existed except the darkness and the lingering shadow. 

At first, she had thought it was the house settling the first few nights; the soft whisper and groan of the wood undulating after a day of Texas heat. But when the noises stopped, and everything died down into the darkness of silence and fear; she could hear the soft whisper of breath. The soft touch of fingertips against the edge of her restraint, always a hairpin length away from touching, never bold enough, but too close.

She would always lie there, heart caught in her throat, trying to fake sleep. Trying to stay alive, because at this point; with a knowing sense, she knew her friends were gone. 

And for whatever unknown reason, she was caught up and trapped; a canary in a cage. 

The questions began to swarm her mind, conjuring up demons and scenarios of what was to come, making her constant state of being one of wrecked nerves.

So she lie, staring up at the labyrinth of pipes and boards, eating up the tiny cracks of light splintering through. Watching as, every once in a while, a pair of feet would walk by. Wishing that this all had just been a nightmare, and she would wake up. 

But she was more awake than she had ever been, it was the sleep that rarely came.

She would be alone for these lapses of time of awareness, and the slow sinking feeling of life would creep in. Constant flashbacks, reminders, feelings, it was like reliving every cruel twisted thing she had to fight through to the point that the reality left her tired and unresponsive. What would it be to try and escape, when there was no escape, no hope. Nothing.

She was nothing.

 

A loud bang of a door closing- echoed, and the voice of the woman of the house splintered through her darkness. "Little rabbit, are you done being rude? I've got you some food dear, I know you're hungry. You've gone a few days without it, and I'm tired of Kylo whining about it."

And it's been days?

She found herself leaning against the restraints and towards the sound of Leia's voice. The question that she had wanted to ask, died in the back of her throat. She needed to know how much time had passed, but did she really? It would only make it real, wouldn't it?

The shuffling of feet, and the creaking of stairs echoed before the light of a candle filtered through to her. Leia walked forward, veiled as a sister of the lord; as a nun. The candlelight spun a soft glow onto her face, and the bowl that she held in the other hand.

Leia is a nun? Her heart began beating faster, and as if reading her mind the older woman chuckled. "I am indeed a sister, little rabbit, the church is just a few minute walk from this home. I do not stay here, during the day." Her weight dipped into the bed, and she sat the candle onto a dilapidated (and ancient) dresser to Rey's right. The old woman edged closer, spooning up things out of the bowl to prepare feeding her.

Something off in the distance hissed, as if another door within the basement area had been opened and closed.

The old woman smiled, not bothering to acknowledge the other presence in the room. "The lord brought you to us, I know that now.  And I am thankful. Just as I am thankful of having my son, even if it was out of wedlock by a holy man that vowed-" She sighed, pausing. She leaned forward, dipping something that Rey thought was to be soup, into her mouth.  Her stomach rolled happily, and she moaned against the spoon.

It brought a smile to the woman's face who dipped it back into the bowl. "My boy is my family, and the people of this house have come to be my family too. The lord put us together, just as he brought you to us. You see?" The action repeated, and Rey found herself mulling over the woman's words as she savored the taste of the stew. It tasted like noodle soup, something with chicken, and thankfully nothing...nothing like what she had feared moments ago.

"Today is a very important day, I've spoken with the other sisters and insisted that I have the church to myself for this morning. You see, I cant have you in my house... a woman as pretty as yourself, go around putting the devil into the heart of my boy. He is...very much a boy, and I cannot go and have him sinning on me. Not when he has done so much of the lord's work, for this long. So this morning, I have spoken with the pastor and you will be married to my son." Leia paused, her dark eyes watching Rey.

And what did she just say? Rey blinked, pulling from her abruptly as if she had been burned. "What." The sound was a croak upon her lips as she fought her body to stay calm.

"I've thought about it these past few days, and Kylo seems to have taken such a liking to you." The woman crooned, her bony fingers set down the bowl on the nightstand and leaned forward to caress Rey's cheek. "And I told him, I said- she is but a girl worn down by sin, but he being the sweet boy he is..." She babbled, eyes lighting dangerously as her old vocal chords skipped on. "He wants you, Miss Rey. He's chosen you if you'll have him. And you want him, yes?"

She flinched from the woman's touch, tears blurring her vision, and she knew what she was being asked. Of how the silence filtered through the air, and the weight of the question. A soft intake of breath of the presence in the darkness of the room hinted that it was there, watching, waiting.

A tear slipped, and the woman's fingers lapped it up- smearing it across her cheek. She had closed her eyes, praying to whatever lord was listening, and nodded. Too afraid to risk the chance of death, even if it seemed so easy to say no.

A pat on the top of her head indicated she had said the right thing.

"that's right, I know you did. I saw the way you looked at him at dinner that night. You dirty- _filthy_ girl, but today you will be new and cleansed." The scrape of the bowl and spoon, and she was again feeding her.

She cried as she ate.

 

Then everything began to process, Leia had disappeared and reappeared with a white cotton dress stained with small flecks of what looked like blood on the hem of the dress. She clucked like a happy mother, as if Rey had willingly said yes to marrying the freak that skinned people up and _wore_ their faces. She didn't even see him, of all the days of being there, he was but a shadow...a blurred concoction of memory.

Leia began to untie the rope joining her to the bedpost, and for a split second she thought about bolting. But she couldn't, her feet were tied, a she would die before she even got out of the house.

"Kylo baby, you need to leave. You know what I said about watching girls undress." Leia cut through the darkness, not turning, not even physically acknowledging her son's presence. "it's bad luck to see the lady before the wedding. Now go on and get ready, go to Han and he will help you." She murmured, and waited as the sound of him leaving echoed throughout the room.

Rey stayed silent, not even bothering to complain, all but broken as she looked at the candle beside the bed.

Was this really how life was going to be? She had never truly escaped the chaotic shit of her childhood and now _this_.

"He is such a shy boy." Leia said, quietly and more to herself, as she peeled the sweaty grey shirt from Rey's skin. Not bothering to acknowledge the way Rey's muscles jumped at skin contact, or the way she was trembling.

No, what she did was disappear for a few moments into the darkness and reappear with a bucket and some water. 

Rey sat trembling, more thankful of wearing a bra, and still having on the mom jeans she had worn. She reeked of sweat and piss, something that she had ignored up until the moment. Leia didn't seem to notice it as she dipped the rag into the water and began scrubbing at her skin.

It was humiliating, being cleaned when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. Where was the fight? Why was she not strangling the woman, and making a run for it?

Her mind whirred and Leia's eyes flashed up to her own in a warning before retying her hands to the bed and untying her legs. The process repeated until she was stripped completely bare, trembling against the prying eyes of the woman who assessed her as if she were but a piece of meat.

"You're a scrawny thing, aren't you?" she hummed along, the ice water burning against Rey's flesh. "Small hips, little to nothing. Probably wont be good for breeding, but we will work on fattening you up." She patted her stomach, and set the bucket with the rag onto the ground before standing up off of the bed.

Another look of warning. "You will not make it if you run child." Leia's nun outfit burning into the recesses of her mind, and then she was untying both her wrists and ankles.

And Rey felt so violated, her body scrubbed clean as if it were about to be eaten, and she was suddenly so cold within the darkness. Leia pulled her up off of the bed before grabbing the rag for an extra run down, angling her arms above her head. 

After an excruciating few moments of her head being scrubbed, Leia acquired that they were finished and that she would put on the dress before following her out of the darkness and into the house above.

Wet hair dripping onto the sheer white cotton that hung on her loosely, it's intent more like a nightgown than a _wedding_ dress, was enough to make her very aware of the fact that Leia didn't bother dressing her in anything _but_ the dress.

She followed the candle and the woman, through the door and into a long hallway of doors. At the end of the hallway introduced the massive area of the dining room and another set of stairs leading up; most likely onto the second floor. She walked slowly, legs sore from having lie in the bed for so long, her bare feet making little noise. The house was deadly and silent, the open maw of a monster lying in wait to snap shut and swallow them whole. 

They walked up stairs, which creaked under their weight, and onto another flat with a hallway of doors. No windows except for the small window in the dinning room, and it was beginning to make her feel more trapped than ever. 

"Yours and Kylo's room will be on the end to the right, its ready and set, and I am so thankful he is willing to move out of that basement." Leia chuckled as if it were the most normal thing in the world, her black dress gliding against the hardwood of the floor. "you are not going to be allowed in there until after the wedding though, for now we are going to Phasma's room. She wanted to help me dress you and make you pretty for your special day." And her smile was stretching into a sinister grin before they stopped in front of a door.

The house was remarkably old, something clearly more of a country house than the one's she was use to in New York. And for a moment she was admiring the woodwork before the little girl from dinner appeared from behind the door.

Her eyes were remarkably blue in the dim light, and she opened the door to allow both of them in before shutting it with a quick gesture. She wore, yet again, a small dress too big for her. It was in a dark maroon color that washed away her skin and made the circles under her eyes much darker. "Sister." She smiled, although it looked wrong and crooked, before those blue eyes landed on her own.

"Her hair is long enough to braid and put some baby's breath in it, and I will go about doing some make up." Leia murmured her hand catching Rey's before bringing her to the small twin size bed in the corner of the room. A window ate up the adjacent wall, flashing freedom just beyond the dirty stained glass. She looked out of it as she sat down onto the bed, and was met with the sight of untamed farmland and forest as far as the eye could see.

Her throat went dry, and she could feel small fingers intertwine through her wet tangled hair.

Leia watched her, black eyes glinting with unnamed emotion before pulling out a small thing of powder.

"You don't even need makeup, but I feel like we should add a hint of color. Maybe it will bring out your eyes." The woman smiled, pulling a brush with thick blonde hair, that looked too similar to Phasma's cut locks, out of a nearby drawer; and dabbed some crimson powder onto it's surface. 

 All things went quiet as she sat, watching lamely at the tree line, as two strangers worked on making her _pretty_.

The woods beckoned, the morning sun glistening off of dark green, and she needed to get to them. Get lost in them, and run. Escape. Because she was good at running, she knew how to play games, she knew that no matter what she would escape.

But this was a wicked game, and she was now a piece of it.

And it would be much harder, than she wanted to accept it to be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, you guys are awesome.


	3. Chapter 3

 The man at the altar was diseased. No more than a scorched scar on her vision than a living breathing human being.

But the moment of silence lapsed into her pulling her into understanding the predicament. This whole community, they were a flawed error, a organization. Leia was a nun serving a god that Rey had never known or believed could exist, it surely wasn't the same god that she had been exposed to throughout many of the families within the system.

She had seen many imperfect people, many flawed characters, and yet this was the most disturbing one of all.

The pastor, the first thing she had seen walking in, looked as if he had been chewed up and spit out for being poisonous. He was a dangerous thing, and in the way his head pulled to his chest and his eyes glistened in the natural light of the small church- it was more than enough evidence to prove he was the leader of them all.

Clearly.

He sucked up the air from the room and invaded all of her nightmarish thoughts, stopping her as soon as her bare feet hit the wooden floorboards. If it weren't for the fact that Leia was beside her, arm laced with hers to walk her down the aisle and Phasma was behind her with a basket full of wildflowers picked for the occasion, Rey would have happily turned on her heel and marched right out.

And did this all happen within a blink of an eye? It sure felt like it, a rushed thing, as if they couldn't wait to get it over and put her on the back burner. She would be apart of the family, no more worries.

Did they expect for her to be okay with it all? Fall into the system of their belief like any other god fearing, cannibal fearing, believer? If only they knew she stopped praying many many years ago.

No god would do such a thing to a little girl, not with what Plutt did. Not with what shes _seen_. 

But she couldn't relive that right now, not when a group of people stood staring at her, watching her hesitate like the prey she was. So she walked, none the less, Leia's arm tightening against her own.

It did not take her long to realize she, Phasma, and Leia were the only women. And the group of men that stood from their seats were only the one's she had seen from dinner the few days ago. Luke, whose eyes glistened happily with hunger. Armi, who was not looking at her but behind her to the little girl holding the flowers. And Han, Han with dark eyes filled with a look of sorrow.

But she couldn't look any further, not even glancing towards _it_. Not until she stopped moving and was having to stand by it's side, feeling too exposed in the dress from the way the Pastor's eyes flashed dangerously.

Then she was facing it, eyes caught on the pristine shape of the suit that stretched over muscle, too small and probably stolen by a innocent victim. It was in good shape, the shoes shined, the pants on the tighter side, and the suit jacket stained at the cuffs. A traditional, old-fashioned, wedding suit. She slowly flickered up to his face, expecting to see Poe's stretched, stitched, and rotten skin. When it was the complete opposite. 

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of _God,_ and in the presence of family and friends to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony." The hiss and snap of the pastor boomed, loud and raw, echoing with passion off of the tiny frame of the church. But she was too caught up, her eyes locked onto the pitch black eyes of the man across from her.

It was the eyes, drawing her in, like live wires glistening dangerously. Unlike the mother's eyes who were lifeless and dull, his seemed to _burn_. It was the eyes she saw first, before the face, and it was purely shocking. Clean pale skin littered with moles; the only normal thing about his facial features.

A nasty scar etched it's way in deep upsetting purple across his brow bone and down the right eye. It seemed to slash open his face, brutalizing it and twisting it into another look all together as she stared; not bothering to listen to the pastor drone on.

His features were odd, something that seemed to fit well with the simple largeness of his being. He was a gigantic man, monstrous, but there was a simplicity about the way his full lips trembled and the way the long onyx hair had been gelled back off of his face to reveal large ears. He seemed nervous, jittery in the way he held himself, and she found herself staring at his lips for a moment too long.

They were _off_ , the corners red and bloody as if someone had gagged him with a knife that cut the insides of his cheeks. The scarring was small, miniscule, but as soon as she noticed the scabbing she couldn't leave it unnoticed. For a moment he reminded her of Heath Ledger's joker, and wanted to laugh for the insanity in it. His scars weren't cut into a smile, they weren't big at all, but it was enough.

At least she could humor herself.

 "Let us pray." The voice snapped her out of her daydream, and she was looking into the eyes of Kylo once more. He was so human, so much more different than a cannibalistic killer wearing her friend's face, that she was almost _sorry_. For a split second she had wandered if he was raised into this, forced into this process by crazy people.

But the thought had rushed out of her as soon as it came.

Their eyes stayed locked throughout the prayer, but the pure fire in his made her glance away.

"Please join hands." The Pastor's voice slithered, popping and crackling like a campfire. Drawing goose flesh across her arms. Very softly, almost in hesitance, Kylo's large hands engulfed her own.

They were warm, almost uncomfortably warm, as they intertwined within her own. So timid, that if she would focus long enough she could most likely feel the heartbeat in his fingertips. She glanced up from watching their hands, and found his eyes watching her.

"I ask you each now, to repeat the marriage vows." But there was a cough in the audience, and suddenly it was just the pastor asking her to repeat. 

Didn't the man beside her speak? He had made noises before, although they weren't formulated into actual vows they were noises. She glanced away from the pastor and just stared blankly at the dark stains on the cuffs of his jacket. 

He was truly an animal, a killing machine, a butcher...and she was _marrying_ him.

"I, Rey take you, K-Kylo for my.." She hesitated, breathing through her nose in an attempt to not break down crying. "wedded _husband_ , to _love_ and _cherish_ , for _better_ or for _worse_ , for _richer_ or _poorer_ , in _sickness_ and in _health_. From this day forward." She grounded out, a single tear shimmying down her face. And she couldn't believe it, she was getting married in her early twenties, to a fucking monster. Being forced into a cult.

A squeeze from Kylo's hand set her straight, grounding herself enough to not break down. And there weren't any rings, as a knarled language spouted out of the Pastor's mouth, ripping into her skull. 

He was speaking tongues, his eyes rolling back into his head, and Kylo's eyes were staring at her again.

And what in the fuck was happening. 

It reminded her of the first time she had ever gone to church when she was but a little girl, too little to formulate speech, but old enough to know the strangeness in the gesture. She had been exposed to snakes, the drinking of chicken's blood, the babbling of tongue and exorcisms- but she had never experienced _this_.

Another soft squeeze from the broad hands grounded her, reminded her to breath, even if she couldn't look away from the way the pockmarked skin of the pastor wriggled, jerking, jumping with the viability of snakes coiling and wriggling. He was coming to life underneath the dead skin that stretched over the skeleton, and her nerves were starting to get bad again.

Silence whooshed through the air as the last of the language died on his lips, leaving the man worn and smiling as if it were the most normal of things in the entire world.

"You may kiss the bride."

And her stomach dropped, as did her hands. She really had to do this, didn't she? Kiss the man or die. kiss the man or die.

Kylo made no move to proceed, and with the lapse of silence before looking around she knew she was the one to do the deed.  _Just get it over with._

She stepped forward - closer, and looked up between the several feet of height difference and this guy was really big. Almost a whole other creature, peering down at her with wide eyes too dark to make out the pupils. She avoided touching him until she pressed forward, heels coming off of the ground to stand on her tippy toes, her hands grabbing his forearms for support. And at this point she couldn't hold back the tremor wracking her body as she shut her eyes and pressed a kiss to the flamed skin of the side of his lips. It was a peck, but the air in the room thinned. And as she pulled back she couldn't help but notice the way his muscles tensed, or how the tips of his ears flamed red along with the soft blush against his cheeks. Had he never touched a woman before?

She stepped back and away from him, and the crowd cheered happily.

 

 

And it was Leia's fingertips caressing her arm once again, motherly and light with a smile so sharp it would make roadkill hop off of the pavement and skitter away.

 "Oh brother Snoke, you did such a lovely job. Thank you so much." She gleamed, standing tall between the two newly weds, and Kylo was fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves.

"I am just doing the Lord's work, sister, but thank you. It seems you have picked a lovely little wife for you son." The rasp of the voice was enough to make Rey cross her arms over her chest, feeling exposed once more as the nun and the pastor watched her like she was a prize toy.

"Yes, and you are invited for dinner this evening." Leia began, her pale hands coming out of the darkness of her dress, before Rey realized what she was doing. It was cuffs, and the metal felt sharp against her already raw wrist. Kylo stood, offering up his own arm as Leia locked Rey to him. And without a beat she turned to her son, smiling. "Show your little pet around, take a break from the work of the day. It's a big day for you honey. Go have fun, and no fiddling around until tonight after supper." She clapped him on the back, and turned back towards Snoke without as much as a glance Rey's way.

The chain was long enough that she could keep a healthy amount of space between them. So, Kylo turned and led them down the aisle; chain pulled tight as she lingered far enough behind as she could, through the small group of people who watched silently.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger-Warning!!
> 
> Blood, and Self-Harm.

 

 The soft slide of skin peeling off from bone had been the most excruciating thing she had ever experienced.  

Just as the flesh gloved off from the bone and muscle of her right hand, she managed to yank the nearest rope she could find and tie it all back together.

Which was much harder than it looks while running at full speed through a dense thicket of trees, but she managed by wrapping the cording around tight enough to assess the damage. 

The pain managed to even edge her on.

It had happened so fast, but she was a determined girl and always had been.

Bare feet digging into the dirt, legs pumping underneath her as the dress flew up, and her heart- her heart was in her throat threatening to drown her.

She made it through the tree line before hearing the crash of snapping branches from behind her.

Too close for comfort.

 

 

 

_Minutes Before..._

 

 

 The sun began to dip low into the sky, elongating the shadows dancing on the path ahead of them as they walked in silence. The trail cut between a sparse patch of trees big enough to hide the view of the large mass of land that stretched out for a few hundred acres.

It was a silent walk, although with each step she could tell that he would shift nervously to keep an eye on her. It wasn't the nervousness one would expect from a captor fearing their prey's escape, no, it was the nervousness of a newly wed boy who had no sense in the matter. In fact, it scared her more than anything. Watching the muscles in his back shift under his coat as if a real beast awaited to flee it's meat cage was enough for her to maintain the tight length of the chain.

As they had walked, each step felt like a finalizing blow. She was _his_ now, according to the twisted family. She didn't want to know what being _his_ , a murdering- skin wearing monster, would be like.

When they had walked onto the clearing and began their way towards the tree line, she realized what he had planned.

He had to show her _the_ barn, a regular barn that she was not expecting to come from the life of a bunch of cannibals. It stood lonely against of the edge of the property just before the sharp edge of the tree line of the forest; a good minutes walk from the church, and far enough away from the house. 

They walked in and the strong smell of manure and animal wafted into her face, stifling her for a moment before the chain pulled and she was being pulled along.

He had not said a word as he went about feeding the animals, as if this was what his mother had insisted on being _fun_.

But as he busied himself with, what she assumed to be daily rituals, she had realized the cuff on her wrist was loose. And a wild idea flew up her ass to work on taking the cuff _off_.

It was surprisingly quick work, and painful, but freedom had begun taunting her from the opening of the barn.

She had been such a good guest, not trying to escape or bother pitching a fit, so this wouldn't be expected. This would _work, if and only if_ she could get the damn cuff off.

Her fingers felt around the edges of the contraption that had been hand-built from the looks of the shitty welding job, which connected to a heavy duty hardware chain. The handcuff's metal had been recently sharpened by the look and the feel of it, which made everything much easier.

He paced down the concrete aisle between stalls, and she had stepped forward enough to slacken the metal so it would settle to rest on the concrete. The rattle of the chain against the surface scratched through the air, and she had let out the breath she had been holding. Now he wouldn't be able to feel her work at the handcuff, through the vibrations of the chain, and from the soft noise of metal against the flooring was not noticeable enough- at least she had hoped not.

If it surprised him, it went unnoticed as he checked inside the stalls.

With the length slackened enough to the point that he couldn't feel her begin to tug at the cuff, she breathed slowly. In through the nose, out of the mouth.

She couldn't even see the house from here, as her eyes cut through the large area of the barn, sipping at the adrenaline pulsating through her as she continued to work at her wrist. There was only two escapes, and one was untouchable because it would mean she would have to pass him.

So it was the opening behind her, close enough to the tree line, maybe furthest away from the house to go unnoticed.

She didn't care, she couldn't care, she had to do it.

The metal was so sharp that she could hardly feel the first cut as it dipped into the skin. But once it began to dig, rolling underneath the layer of skin as if it were butter, she gritted her teeth.  She became light headed, a ringing started up in her ears, but she kept going as her eyes trailed his broad form as it walked into a stall of a beautiful purely white stud. All the while pulling the chain tight as the door closed behind him. It was almost there, the cuff slipping past the bone of her thumb, the blood acting as a lubricant to the metal.

And all she could thing was that he was getting his nice suit dirty.

The first droplet of blood fell and echoed throughout the barn as the severed skin burned and the metal of the cuff rolled off. And she stilled, wincing on the inside, and watched him as he continued paying attention to the horse instead of her.

A soft sigh, the slowing of time, and then it was like a bullet had gone off as the cuff collided with the concrete.

And she was rushing- gathering the slimy skin up as it threatened to roll off- adrenaline moving her feet on instinct. Blood bloomed, pouring over the white of her dress and down her legs, as she subconsciously snatched the nearest piece of rope from a board nearby.

Quickly, her life flashing dangerously behind frantic eyes, she dashed towards the exit. Towards freedom.

And she could hear him even as a sudden silence blanketed through the building, even as the morbid beat of her heart thudded in rhythm to her feet as they slapped against the floor. 

 

 

_Present_

 

 

The swell of the forest was dark although the sun had yet to set, and the amount of humidity clinging to the branches broke forth the god-fearing sweat clinging to her skin.

The pendulum of time passed before the eerie noise of foliage breaking introduced itself. It was the only noise he had made that died off instantly behind her.

He became quiet, but he was there. Just a breath a way, and one slip up and he would have her. She knew this to the marrow of her bone.

But she was nimble, and use to running. Although her legs burned,  her bare feet worked quick as they carried her forward through the dense forest. 

Branches reached out, slapping against her, tearing at her ruined dress as it clung to her legs in a bloody mess that threatened to trip her. She kept on, accepting the startling pain of the branches over the violent throb of her right hand.

With each step-each move- the flayed skin would pull against the dirty rope, making her skin crawl.

She jerked to the left, a sudden turn of events in hopes to throw him off of her trail.

She was quick, but he was somehow quicker.

Before she knew it a loud crack echoed and a decent sized tree struck down in front of her, rolling her. Tipping her world upside down,  as she spilled against the forest floor of roots and the smell of leaf decay.

She only had seconds, _seconds_.

Quickly, dirt and leaves threatening to still her, caking her like mud, as she crawled upwards into standing position. Already pouncing back onto her feet and pushing into a sprint, just as a thick arm coiled about her midsection and snatched her back.

A massive oak welcomed her thrashing body as her face hit the bark so hard she was sure it was bleeding and very suddenly she was being pressed into the bark, a whine playing low on her lips as she felt his body wedge her against the massive tree trunk.

She didn't bother screaming, but she couldn't contain the feeling of pure hopelessness that spilled from her lips in the form of a sob. Trying to ignore the sound of ragged breathing from behind her as he leaned close, pressing more weight into her that her spine popped and her lungs tightened. He was going to crush her to death. Kill her. Rip her face off just like Poe's.

Her body fought with his, pushing back into him in a failed attempt.

A hand wedged itself into what was left of her braid, and pulled her head back as far as it could go. Exposing her throat as she gulped against the pain, the fear of him smashing her skull into the oak more present than it had been seconds ago.

Hot warmth spread across the right side of her face before the smoldering heat of his cheek rested against hers. Her sobs caught in her throat.

The forest was quiet, as he nuzzled into her, and she was sure he was going to kill her. 

Instead with surprising gentleness he let go of her hair, and it was the feel of the callouses of his fingertips, the first time he's actually touched her since the wedding, run down her right shoulder as a caress; feather light as they skimmed the surface of her skin with a subtle tremor that beat along to the heart thundering against her back. 

Her eyes followed his massive paw of a hand as it began to dip down her right arm, fingers gliding down until they reached the rope. And she wasn't prepared for what she saw, of her now ruined hand that hung sadly against her side. The blood trickled through the rope as it pooled dark and purple underneath the skin. What wasn't underneath the skin, was steadily dripping to the decayed leaves of the forest floor.

His fingertips began to tremble as a high pitched whine rumbled through him, vibrating against her back. It was such a wretched sound, jolting her from her pain, distracting her as the soft caress changed with a fluttering heartbeat.

She was jerked from the tree, the bark biting into her shoulders and back as he turned her around, again knocking what little breath she had out of her.

A glisten off of his left wrist caught her attention. The chain was still attached to him and was steadily clanking together like some disturbed wind chime. Her vision spotted, threatening her knees to buckle.

He whined again, and his hands were coming up to her face, pressing into the skin there, forcing her face to look up at him. 

Her skull dug painfully every time he would shake her head, like he was unaware of how brutally strong he was. But she knew he just wanted her attention. He only wanted her to look at him, but she couldn't.

She had closed her eyes so hard that white spots bloomed, until he slammed against her, left hand slipping from her jaw and to her neck. The other hand grabbing the whole left side of her face. It was then, from the rattling of his heart against her, that her eyes opened and looked up into his. 

 The darkness of him seemed to pool there just under his eyelids, such darkness that stilled her for a moment as his hand dug deeper into the skin of her face. His eyes were blown wide, whites showing ,with a wet glisten to them of pure worry. They were the only things with expression on his face, if one didn't count the slight twitching of the jaw muscle underneath the skin.

It was enough to break her into tears.

"P-please just let me go." Her sob ripped from her as her bad hand came up, spilling the blood pooled up underneath the skin, down her arms and all over the both of them; she weakly grappled at the hand on her face in attempt to pull it away. He wouldn't budge, but his eyes swirled with unbridled emotion.

Worry, _anger_.

His jaw clenched and every so softly his head twitched,  _no._

She began to cry more, her bad hand falling to her side; she couldn't even feel the skin any more as she pushed against him, a weak shove. The hand around her throat tightened, not enough to be painful but enough to quiet her down.

And he was flattening himself over her, suffocating her against the tree.

His hand quickly disappeared from her face as he put an index finger over her lips, squishing them hard against her teeth, cracking them to bleed.

She quieted down just long enough to hear a loud crunching from nearby.

And he was shushing her, low and soft under his breath, his body instinctively hitching her up onto his thigh. Her dress caught up around her thighs casting bloody rivulets; the blood chilled her through the bone and no doubt soaked through the material of his slacks.

She had begun to claw at him, fear causing her to whimper shamefully, as he trembled. His forehead came to rest against hers.

Her legs no longer touched the ground as dirty bare feet dangled from either side of him, his body seemed to shield her from the oncoming danger. He attempted to muffle her cries with a hand, but without knowing what he was doing she had latched onto his hand and bit into it.

The knee that had been holding her up jerked up and into the conjunction of heat and inner thigh, wracking a surprised hiss out of her.

Salt and copper flooded her mouth; a groan shuttered through him.

"What did I tell you about fiddling around boy!" Leia laughed, walking up on them in a sly motion, the grin splitting her face was one that reminded her of a snake.

Kylo jolted, acting as if he'd been caught, let go of Rey. The scratching sound of the cotton dress catching against the tree bark cut through the air, she stilled, too caught up and confused to notice the exposure of thigh. But Leia noticed.

He cowered as the older woman came closer. 

"You didn't do anything did you? I told you to wait until tonight..." The woman growled eyes flashing dangerously, making the beast of a man droop in on himself. His head was shaking in a rhythmic no, so furiously that she was sure he'd get whiplash.

"H-he didn't do anything." She murmured from behind him,  because he didn't. He practically saved her, but why? He could have told his mother she had tried to run off, he could have smashed her brains in. Instead he grabbed her uninjured hand and held it tightly behind him.

Leia dead eyes crinkled around the edges before flickering down to the flesh of Rey's wounded hand. And then the older woman was looking between the two before staring blatantly at the cuff that dangled from his bull of an arm.

"What...happened? She was runnin' wasn't she?" Her eyes were dangerous again, black as coal against the white of her face that peaked out from her attire. She was watching Kylo as he began to make a huffing noise.

"I-I a-a-accidentally hurt her m-m-momma." His head hung, ashamed, his ears turning red under the now tangled mess of hair. And Rey was staring at him, her mouth dropping open ever so slightly. She had not expected his voice to rumble out, deep and baritone. It seemed to give a whole new dimension to the man standing in front of her, cowering to his mother.

"What on earth boy! I told you to go have fun and you end up skinning her damn hand off? Its probably her good hand too. She wont be able to help out with chores now until its healed, stupid." The older woman's voice shot out, ringing in the air, her face going cherry red from anger. "What am I going to do with you, Ben? What if you went on and accidentally killed 'er, then I would have wasted all this precious time." She was coming forward, but he huffed up at the last second, pushing forward in front of Rey in a look of defense.

Stopping the old woman in her tracks, before she sighed. "Get 'er home, fix her up, supper will be ready in a few hours. I- don't do anything stupid... I don't need to tell you of your punishment, you know it already..." Her eyes slinted as she glared, totally forgetting the fact that she had though she'd caught them doing things. Leia began walking back, now through the twilight of the evening, not bothering to wait for them to follow.

Rey's stomach flopped as she watched the wretched woman walk away. Leia had so much control, too much control, and this poor...whatever he was- simply stood there and took it, risking the skin off of his back to keep his wife (or whatever she was to him) from dying. Which could mean anything, but she knew it meant she could live just a bit longer. That maybe, gaining his trust wouldn't be the worst thing to do, not with the risks being so high.

Kylo turned to her suddenly, eyes flashing something, before he pulled her dress from the tree and back around her legs. Heat crawled across her face as she looked away and to the darkness growing around them. At least she hadn't flashed him. But she appreciated the act  of him trying to hide her legs, whether it was to shield them  from the forest- or himself, she didn't know.

He snatched her from the tree, ripping bark in the process, before hiking her up into his arms. Bridal style.

 

 

 

 

Somehow she had made it to the house without blacking out from the pain. Although the nausea was enough for her to keep her eyes shut tight, because the soft rock of Kylo's gait sent her stomach into knots. Ben...

Wait- Ben?

Leia had called him Ben, and it had happened twice now but only when she was angry. Was- could- that be his true name? Her heart picked up, and she could feel the man climb the stairs to the house. The boards moaning from underneath his weight as he filed in through the screen door. 

"Lord have mercy! What happened to the girl's hand?!!!" A vicious voice rang throughout the air, as no one other than Luke announced himself. She opened her eyes, glancing towards the old man. Kylo's arms coiled tighter around her like an anaconda would it's prey. For a second, the urge to look at Ky-Ben passed over her, making her wish she knew what he was thinking but she couldn't bring herself to look at him-not yet. Not when the burn of being caught ate at her pride.

"Yes, what happened?" Leia walked back into the room, acting as if she hadn't seen them since the church.

"G-got c-c-caught up in thu-thuh barn, horse s-stall." His voice rumbled, voice stuttering and slow, as if he would rather not speak at all. It was enough for them though, as Leia simply glanced at Rey before nodding towards the stairs. 

Luke could only chuckle, saying something under his breath that Rey wish she could have heard, if it had not been for the steady increase of pain.

The drip of blood splattered against the hardwood floor, a dangerous reminder of how much blood she'd loss.

A reminder that she had lost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter gets very dark, and I just wanted to warn you guys.

* * *

**_Phasma_ **

 

 

The woman's head lulled to the side in bubba's embrace. Her once tan skin now a sickly pale, and she was knocked out cold by the looks of it.

Phasma witnessed their grand entrance from the kitchen doorway, and decided she would take the notion to intervene. So she followed, knowing no one else would help, knowing he'd need it with the way his eyes crinkled dangerously at the edges.

Bubba treaded up the staircase, boots scraping against the wood in a hurried expression. He didn't bother looking over his shoulder at her, she knew that he knew she was there.

Once upon a time she had been the newest to the family before this woman, and even after the years her curiosity somehow survived.

"You didn't hurt her." She whispered more of a statement than a question before closing the door behind them. She watched the man gently set the woman onto the bed, his jaw set. Her question made him defensive; his back tensing under the silly jacket he had to wear.

His eyes flicked to hers, and ever so softly his head jerked:  _no._

"She tried escapin' didn't she?" She wondered out loud, walking closer to get a better look at the bloodied bandage in Rey's hand; only to realize it _was_ her hand.

His hand shot out, instantly blocking her from getting any closer as he eyed her down, probably wondering why she was being so damn nosy. She kept on; her heart beginning to pound furiously in her ears.

He grumbled, and she took it as a yes.

So- she _had_ run, she had almost gotten free.

Phasma clutched the side's of her linen dress, nails digging through the fabric. She eyed the woman, of how the white dress was sheer with nothing but blood, her face was soft though- angelic, as her eyes rolled behind her eyelids in unconsciousness. She was a symbol of a fighter all coiled up and broken.

"I wont tell anyone bubba, but you need to go get me some supplies so I can fix her for you. You want her fixed right? Shes still your wife?" Phasma turned to him, taking in the way he watched the woman before them, she had never seen his face light up the way it did when he looked at Rey. It was as if he had seen a light for the first time in his life. It reminded her somewhat of how it had been when she had first met Armi, of before becoming apart of the family.

He disappeared quickly down the hallway, and she was staring at the woman again. A pit of rage and jealousy swam through her, it was feelings meant for someone much older to feel- a adult and not from a little girl of eleven. But she had been apart of this family for what she believed to be three years now, and in a year's time she would be forced to wed pastor Snoke. If anything, it was her that was suppose to be running, not staying; not staying in hopes to gain love from another.

A rustle of clothing from behind her revealed the giant of a man she had come to call her brother, he was the only one that ever wanted to do anything with her; plus he didn't see her as a piece of meat like the others did.

She flashed him a small smile, trying to tell him through body language that his little pet would be fine, and motioned him to bring the basket full of medical supplies to her. He did, his hair hanging in his face to hide the fact he had put the harness on. 

Phasma hated the face harness, she hated everything it stood for; she hated _god_.

He sat the basket down next to her, and pulled the pretty boy mask from behind him to put on over the harness, trying to hide the fact that he was mortifying his flesh. It served to be a reminder of his sins, of what he was. It had been enough to make her realize the deep evil of his mother.

Before the mask slipped onto his face, she motioned him to stop, and took the face away to set it on the bedside table.

"It will frighten her. Just keep the harness." She murmured dipping her hand into the basket to take out the supplies. Needle, red sewing thread because they didn't have anything else, and some alcohol. It wasn't much, but the woman shouldn't have risked her hand like that.

She glanced up at him as he stood, silent, probably so use to the double edge blade bit between his teeth and in his cheeks; that he didn't recognize the pain. But he was hurting, she could tell, as the edges of the blade caught the sides of his lips- breaking the scabs. 

"Just because shes hurting don't mean you should be." She quipped, the back of her neck burning with anger, but set to work by cleaning the flesh of the woman's hand. 

A muffled grumble behind the leather harness told her all she needed to know; that he had to do it. That it had been his fault for not watching over her like a husband should. She could almost hear his baritone voice stutter it out, and rolled her eyes at the fact.

Minutes passed, the red thread dipped into the clean skin, spilling more blood on the dress and the towel that came with the medical basket. 

She didn't know much, but she knew the hand would be scarred for life, possibly not able to function properly because of all of the severed nerve endings. It needed a lot of physical therapy, and hopefully-if it didnt get infected- wouldn't have to be cut off.

"Bubba, go in the kitchen and ask mama" She hated calling _her_ mom, "for some pain medication, and a new dress. I don't think shes going to wake up for awhile, maybe long enough to get the pills down but shes going to be hurting." She only heard him leave as she bent closer with concentration; left with the woman once more. 

Stitching was a meditative process, for her, and she found herself wandering off remembering things she suppressed years back. Promises still kept underneath the infection of it all.

 

  _"Where's your momma?" The little boy questioned, coming from around the tree of the rest stop. He looked so young, but after she had gotten to know him she knew that- that was just his face._

_"She went into the restrooms. Told me to wait out here with sissy, but..." Her eyes had trailed off, hands tangled in long blonde locks out of nervous habit._

_"She left ya alone?" His voice was sticky sweet, and he looked just as lost as she was with his ratty overalls and bright red hair. He walked up and grabbed her hand, just as kids do, and leaned close to tell her something in her ear._

_**"You're pretty.** " He had said, making her nose crinkle up and and an obnoxious ewwww escaped her lips. He laughed, his green eyes as bright as momma's sundress, and his freckles reminded her of the stars sissy talked about to at night._

_"I cant talk to strangers, or hang out with them." She had said suddenly, pulling away from his grasp, watching the dirty white shirt underneath the overalls wrinkle from sweat. A look of hurt crossed his face._

_Momma said she would only take a minute, but it was a lifetime; and where was she?_

_She glanced around, the small trickle of unease drifting through her. They had a few more hours and they'd be out of texas, but Mom and sis decided to stop for a break from driving._

_"No one should wait alone, ya know?" He mumbled, sounding too grown, and for a moment she just looked at him. The parking lot had been empty save for a van, a pick-up truck, and their little  green Toyota car. She hadn't even seen the group he was with, but for some reason he drew her in. Maybe it was the eyes, so soft and green; of early Spring._

_"It'll only be for a few minutes..." She gulped, and he was holding her hand once again._

_"Come with me, we can wait with my family, and we will tell them....They'll help you find your mom."_

_"But they are strangers."_

_"I wont let anything happen to you, cross my heart and hope to die." And he was crossing his heart with the index finger of his right hand, his scrawny bird chest poked out in triumph._

_"You swear it on your life?" She murmured, something in her shifting._

_"I swear it, now come on! Follow me!!" and he had pulled her along, proud and defiant as if he had just won a grand prize wrapped up as a little blonde girl. And she followed him, winding their way to the old rusty pick-up truck that glistened underneath the hot glare of the sun.  The orange paint  had flaked off onto her hand when she had touched it._

_"Miss Leia! I found..." He stopped, looking back to get her name._

_"Phasma." She huffed underneath her breath, heart racing out of the fact that she had broken her mother's rules._

_Don't talk to strangers._

_"Oh! Beautiful!! " The old woman smiled wide, shielded in the heat by an outfit she had only seen in movies. Leia was a nun, and it was okay. Everything would be okay. She had grew calm again, smiling against the silly idea of her being scary moments before._

_"Where are your parents baby girl?" Leia quipped leaning down to peer directly into Phasma's eyes, and then to the joining of his and her hand._

_"My momma and sister went to the restroom, but they haven't come out."_

_"Oh! what car were you driving?"_

_"A green one." She said, suddenly looking around her with wide eyes; feeling small for not looking for the car sooner. It was missing, the spot it had sat in had been vacant as the rest of them._

_Her heart dropped, and ever so softly the little boy asked. "Where's Luke?"_

_In a chain reaction she was being pulled back and into the truck, the sad emerald eyes of the boy being he last thing she saw before a rag hovered over her face._

 

Her mother and sister had been eaten, and with a sick purpose _fed_ to Phasma.

But Armitage stayed true with his word, at least until Snoke. Until they found out her doom of a future.

A groan heaved its way through her subconscious, bringing her back as she tied the thread tight.  Rey was beginning to stir.. 

But  Bubba hadnt come back yet. Not yet. 

"Miss. Rey." she cooed softly, wiping her hands on the bloody towel, and leaned over the woman to check the rest of her cuts and bruises. 

"I need to get you rinsed off, there is a bathroom on down the hall. Do you think you can stand miss? We've gotta change your clothes." And she was rambling but she couldn't help it underneath the newcomer's intense gaze. Her eyes were clear for a few moments before they dulled down from what Phasma could assume to be pain.

The creak of the floorboards echoed as Bubba pushed his way through the door, a simple nod to her to say he had gotten exactly what she asked for, and as soon as he noticed Rey's awareness he shot for the bed breathing heavy.

He was worried, but Phasma could see why Rey would bunch up on herself. 

"She's okay, I fixed her hand up..." She stated softly, and he was handing her medication with a glass of water; immediately eyeing the long sleeveless blue dress hung off of one shoulder.

She gave him a smile and watched as he assessed Rey with his eyes once more before speaking up again. "Oh, and Bubba- I will need your help. Carry her to the bathroom will you? We gotta get her clean, thankfully she didn't bleed all over the bed or else we'd have to clean that too." She got to her feet, grabbing the basket and arranging it nicely to be put back up. 

A hint of a wince hissed through the room, pulling her to look behind her shoulder, just as she had walked to the door.

Ben, she hated his mother's pet name for him so she refused to acknowledge him as anything other than who he _truly_ was, had dipped both arms underneath Rey and had pulled her up to his chest like she were a baby. She certainly could pass as a baby with the look on her face, all wide eyed and blank from pain.

"Come on, and we can give her the medicine too." Phasma beckoned, walking into the hallway and to the bathroom.

Catching something out of the corner of her eye she paused to see the outline of Armitage at the end of the hall. Phasma's heart began to beat faster as it always did upon seeing him, and stopped mid tracks

He stalked forward, his bare feet feather-light against the floorboards. "Dinners ready." He murmured, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed into the hallway and into the bathroom behind her. "Barn- tonight." his voice was barely a whisper as he leaned close to her, fluttering her heartbeat more.

Ever since they had found out about her being wed he had refused to look at her, but now his green eyes glimmered underneath the dim lights. Of the mischief she loved. A soft kiss pressed into her cheek, and he was leaving down the stairs back to the kitchen. Leaving her behind to wish she didn't care.

A hum echoed from behind her, and she turned around making her way into the bathroom.

 "Dinner is ready." She said as she watched Rey's eyes roll with nausea; Ben could hardly even look at his little wife without whining underneath his breath.

The woman was in a lot of pain, but she deserved it for being stupid. There were plenty of other ways to escape, plenty of other ways that didn't result losing a hand.

But she couldn't blame her, she had done plenty of stupid things too.

All of them resulting with Armitage always finding her; of always bringing her back.

She attempted to force a smile to get over the lingering kiss on her cheek. "I'm going to start the bath, and I need you to help me get her out of this dress and set her in the tub. Okay? Just hold her up and I've got the rest. Maybe it'll even help sooth the pain,"

He gradually began to set Rey down, adjusting her so she stood on her feet which would have caved if it weren't for his hands on her waist.

Grabbing the ends of Rey's dress, she began to peel it off and paused long enough for Ben to shift his hands onto the bare skin of the woman's waist in a good grip to not let her crumple.

And the dress was off, it's bloody mess was flung towards the door in a heap for washing. 

Phasma grabbed the dress that lie on his shoulder and placed it nearby to fetch after. She glanced up to look at the man's reaction with the woman in his arms.

Ben stood, as much as a gentleman as she had come to know, his eyes were painfully shut and his nostrils were flared in concentration. The little girl wanted to laugh out of the pure silliness of it, but decided against it as she rushed to the tub and started it up; hoping there would be some left over warm water. 

"Just help me put her in the tub Bubba and you can go and get some food, I will call you when I need you again." She stated and his eyes blinked open, staring at the wall across from them as he easily maneuvered the girl into the bath without letting her fall.

The girl had begun to whine, a dull pleating sound of a wounded animal. It didn't bother Phasma, but it surely bothered Ben. She watched as he began to tremble and wondered, for a moment, if he truly considered his pet to be a person and not another animal like the rest of the people slaughtered.

"Thank you, now go on and get some food. I'll make sure she gets some medicine and shes clean." She said, watching him let go of the girl and leave without as much as a glance back. 

* * *

 

  ** _Rey_**

 

The pain was unforgiving, and it had dipped into unconsciousness with a dash of delirium.

The sleep was dull but ever changing, just as the tide changes, just as the moon shifts and fades. And time became nothing at all as it slipped on. 

The fever boiled underneath the skin, cooking her from the inside out, as she lie there. A prisoner within her own body. A prisoner in every right, truly, but she couldn't for the life of her remember why.

Where was she? Who was she?

One moment she would be the little girl with feet as dirty and black as tar, and the next she would be the young woman being pulled underneath the shore of life.

 There were often times that it felt like she were swimming in this vast darkness, swimming with tired limbs and sore lungs, only to claw her way to the veil of the surface just as it felt like she was drowning.

Eyes would crack open to reveal a world of colors and shapes, all blurry and raw, crackling with grain and wriggling with tempo of the heart within her chest. She never knew where she was but she knew she was lost. As lost as she had been all those years ago, standing alone and afraid within the darkness.

Then the voices would come, there were always two voices. One was of a little girl, and the other...well the other was the beast- the demon. They were the creatures one would have sitting on one's shoulder. Good and bad. 

Reason and insanity.

This duo would stay, always watching, always feeding her things that would make her pain dissipate, always wiping her forehead with something cold and soft.

And something deep within her would churn, like some old rusty gear trying to start back up in a forgotten machine; she _knew_ these creatures. In fact they were not creatures at all, they were people- strangers, but as soon as she would come to terms with who they were the pain would wash it all away.

Leaving her gasping for air, and wishing for the solid darkness that would drift in.

There were other moments, clear moments that would pass over her. The moments of feeling small hands readjust the wrappings on her numb appendage, or the feeling of callused fingers press into the soft flesh of her cheek.

"Her dress is so pretty." She heard one day, it was the child's voice, so angelic and soft. It was the complete opposite from the voice that slithered in later, sounding as if it came from far away. Somewhere far far away.

"If she doesn't get better within the next day and a half, we will have to kill her." The voice threatened, _promised_.

And her stomach churned, locking up her broken fever with fear that shuttered in, and it all clicked like some deranged puzzle piece.

 She had been married, sold off like a piece of cattle at an auction.

She was a married woman, married to...to.

The darkness came to life around her floating body, it buzzed and clicked like the sound of rattling bones. 

It opened up to the faces of her friends, of bodies hanging from chains. They were there, all of them, still together.

But in this darkness they wriggled, moaning with pain as they grasped at the chains that dug into their flesh, calling out in sobs for help.  

 And then  _it_ walkedin, tall and cumbersome like an angel from hell, a demon- a reaper.

The darkness sang as he moved forward, hands reaching out to caress the faces of his victims, and with each caress of his fingertips she could tell he was reading their sins.

But he looked up, just as his knuckles caressed the edge of Poe's bloodied face, and the reaper was peering at her.

 _This one?_ His eyes glistened with questions. Dark with malice.

And within the darkness she recoiled, or she thought she recoiled, when in fact she had nodded.  _Yes._

Then she was falling through the ocean of darkness, falling into a pit of memory. 

 

  _"A fucking waste."  Thick greasy fingers coiled around a rolled cigarette which had moved up to cracked lips that puffed out thick clouds of smoke. "A fucking waste of a little girl. Cant even cook. Cant clean. You're not even attractive so I cant sell ya."  The man sat there on a chair that groaned with each movement he made. She had remembered the moment she was being brought to his doorstep, of how her heart sank as he opened the door to reveal a mammoth of a man._

_He was, without a doubt, the fattest man she'd ever seen as he  had stood there glaring down at her with coal black eyes, that were so dull and lifeless, it was like looking up into the eyes of a corpse. He was one of those men that should have never been allowed to foster children, and she knew it the moment she had locked eyes with him._

_She'd even tried to tell the business lady that had dropped her off, but because she was so small and so young; her words had meant nothing to deaf ears._

_She didn't matter, and maybe after all, this was what she deserved._

_"I'm only ten, sir." She had mumbled, only to catch the back of his hand for back talking. So, she had sat across from him at the kitchen table watching him, too scared to move to touch the stinging of her cheek. Too scared to do anything but watch him really._

_"You don't even have any fucking manners, what god forsaken place did you come from?" He snarled, drool dripping from thick lips. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed to look like the cracks in a doll's face she'd seen in a store once. She had thought that those crinkles were the signs that he had been a monster hiding in the skin of a fat forty year old man that forgot to bathe and pissed in jugs._

_She answered him honestly. "I came from a pastor's house, he had died..."_

_"God isn't real, you hear me? Do you think god is real little girl?" Plutt began to bark, the skin hanging off of his face began to jiggle as it turned a violent shade of red. He puffed on his cigarette._

_"Yes." Was all she could say knowing something bad was going to happen, but the pastor had told her to never be afraid. That one should never be afraid to admit they believed in god._

_She was pulled from her seat and pinned down against the kitchen table by a force so rough it winded her. She squirmed instantly as the thick claw of her foster parent's hand gripped her neck, and the smell of vomit, booze, and cigarettes wafted into her face. He leaned close, the spittle on his lips dripping onto her face, and she could feel herself being crushed underneath the weight of his stomach._

_"God isn't real **sweetheart**." He said softly, black eyes searching hers as her heart hammered in her chest, and he smiled. "Here, let me show you. Let me prove to you, you little bitch, that god is not real." His hands began to fumble underneath her, and the sound of his belt sliding off made her go ridged. _

_"I want you to beg God to help you now. Beg, go on and beg." He growled and she could feel the nails in his other hand dig into the flesh of her stomach that had become exposed, as her shirt rode up from the fat of his stomach shifting against her. The table groaned as tears began to pour from her eyes. God would surely help her, any minute now and this man would drop dead, or the nice lady with the business suit would come knocking on the door._

_Yes, yes that was it. This wasn't real, none of this would happen, this wouldn't happen to a girl like her. The pastor had said she was such a sweet girl, a child of the lord, that she was special._

_"Please god, help me, help me god." She began to whisper under her breath, trying to ignore the hands that felt up against her thighs, or the way she couldn't even move from under his god awful weight._

_"Imma make you into a god damn woman, and after this If I ever hear you speak of god in this house I will punish you. Just. Like. This. Not to mention you **will** learn how to cook and clean, and you **will** learn to keep that pretty little mouth shut."_

_And she was screaming, her faith crashing to a halt just as her innocence had for all of the next five minutes._

 

 

 She clawed to the surface and pulled through to find herself jolting awake from a high pitched keening noise, only to realize it was her screaming.

She sat up in bed, her vision spotting. She went to throw up but only dry heaved.

Something cool pressed up against the back of her neck, and she couldn't help but lean into it. The memory that had surfaced stung at her retinas, making her shiver violently as she gasped and choked back sobs.

"Oh god." She moaned, feeling as if she were being crushed, feeling that any little movement would send her crumbling into shattered pieces on top of the bed.

A soft guttural noise made her freeze.

It made her realize where she was; and that was a candlelit bedroom in the middle of the night from what the window on the other side of the room foretold.

"N-n-not going t-t-to hur-hu-hu-hurt you." The deep rumble resonated, from a voice that sounded as if it were trying to swallow back blood, beside her as the feeling of the rag continued to wipe at the back of her neck. "let me-me-me h-help?"

She glanced over, her hand coming up to her face to wipe off all of the little baby hair that stuck to her forehead and cheeks. He sat there on the floor, big enough to comfortably reach over to her, but at the moment he had taken the rag away out of caution.

He looked rough, she decided as she stared, the darkness in his eyes shinning within the soft candle light. His face was not covered but it was pale and clammy looking, the sides of his mouth were split open and bleeding down his cheek. His cheeks were twitching and purple with bruises along with his jaw that looked raw and crusted with more dried blood. 

Two dark crescents hung underneath his swollen eyes, and the scar seemed more puckered than what she could remember. She mindlessly reached out, her dream forgotten along with her pain, and attempted to drag a strand of greasy black hair off of his face. She attempted but her hand was shaking violently, black and purple fingertips hardly even twitched as she numbly touched his face. She watched with curiosity, not knowing why she wanted to, hell she wasn't even forming any coherent thoughts. Though if one were to ask her later on she would blame it on the delirium, but the truth of it was the fact that he looked to be in worse shape than she did.

His lip quivered, and his crooked jaw rolled as if he were considering her touch. She thought for a moment that he was going to slap her hand away, but instead his eyes closed and he leaned into her dead hand.

A low and throaty moan tore from his throat, and it sounded as broken as she felt on the inside.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: "Time of the Season" by The Zombies  
> "Angel" by Jimi Hendrix

 

Her right hand was absolutely ruined, and after getting a better glance of it against the flesh of the man's cheek, she had fainted.

She had never been one to faint, and had always believed it was something made up for the telly; but boy was she wrong.

It was just about as wrong as the sweet and toxic swell of unconsciousness. 

The darkness was back and so was _he_.

 _Ben_. The name floated in her subconscious, pricking her memory like a pestering fly to a carcass. It festered and had pulled her awake for the second time that day, just as the bite of something sharp clipped at the skin of her neck.

"Oh thank god you're awake deary, I thought I was gonna have to put a end to ye sufferin'." A motherly voice clucked from above her as she blinked back dried sleep; Rey didn't like what she saw, and neither did the person coming into the room.

A low keening noise echoed violently, jerking her awake and towards the nipping blade of the knife that hadn't been pulled away from her throat.

"Oh! girl, if you wanna die all you gotta do is say so." Leia cackled, pulling the knife away only to clean it on her dress before sheathing it somewhere within her robes. Rey watched, clutching her throat, feeling the small cut that she had brought on herself.

By this time the old woman had turned to her son, and all but hissed. "Look what you did! Scaring the poor girl to death like that, she almost killed herself because of _you_! You fool."

Ben (she finally decided that he was to be Ben to her) stood there completely ridged, jaw locked and eyes wild. He had honed in on her with incredible decision that he barely even flinched as his mother pushed past him.

"You didn't hurt me." She murmured quickly, not even realizing it, hell she didn't even know why she was trying to talk to him. But somewhere in the back of her brain she knew that if she lived, she would have to gain his trust; that maybe, just maybe, he could be her route of escape. "Do you hear me? Ben?"

The dull look in his eyes died, suddenly the gaze he held as he looked at her-  _really_ looked at her, seemed to burn her. It as if it were the first time he were ever seeing her. She glanced away, swallowing back the knot in her throat as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, her limbs stiff and locked up from being bedridden.

She listened as he closed the door and walked closer, the floor boards creaking under his weight, before he stopped at the side of the bed. She couldn't bother glancing his way as she stared down at her hands, noting the right hand was wrapped up, covering the damage up as much as possible. It was still throbbing and numb, but the pain wasn't _as_ bad as it had been.

The room became silent, and with a glance she looked up to see the early morning light filtering through the fogged window.

It took a long time before she could face him again, but she did. Hazel eyes met dark midnight ones in the dim lit room, and he made a noise in the back of his throat as he watched her.

Dark tangled waves of ebony hair covered a lot of his face, wet from what she could assume to be a recent shower, she noted he looked a lot more clean than the last time she had seen him.

Then he had been bloody and raw, completely exposed emotionally as he sat on the bedroom floor. Now though, it was as if he'd put on a metaphorical mask that hid everything but the intensity within the eyes.

"Ben." She murmured, using the name again, watching the way it would make him subconsciously twitch. " _You_ didn't hurt me." She stated, much louder, watching as his fingers fidgeted by his side.

Another noise accented from deep in his chest, almost in between a purr and a growl. 

"You're up." A child's voice echoed as the door opened and clicked shut behind them. "I am glad you survived." She said, her little cow-licked blonde hair came into view as she stepped from around Ben, to assess the state of Rey. 

Ben turned, swallowing dryly before leaving the room all together, his boots thumping against the floor and down the hallway. Rey watched in total confusion as to what had just occurred.

"I am to show you your work today." Phasma interrupted, pulling her attention back to her as she came to the edge of the bed to look at the hand. "though I suppose you cant use your hand, we are going to have to find something for you to do or else mama will step in."

 

 

 

 

 

"We cant have you doing regular chores." The little girl began, helping Rey to her feet from the bed, and waiting ever so patiently as she fought with the nausea of her bed ridden state. "But if you had a hand, you'd be helping me sew clothes, and work around the house cleanin'." Rey's stomach rolled as she pulled herself from the bed, but she knew that she needed to move. She needed to get better so she wouldn't wake up to Leia's knife again. 

The memory swelled and her thoughts scampered on. _What if I didn't wake up in time? What if she kills me anyways? What if Ben hadnt made it in time?_

"Come on, get outta yer head. Its the worse place to be right now." A pat on the back told her the little girl could see right through her, and for once she looked down at her as if seeing her for the first time. Wide blue eyes looked back up at her, blinking with confusion before shining brightly. She reminded her of one of the little girls from _The Shining_ but with less hair, in fact no hair at all. She found herself placing a hand through the soft downy blonde locks that licked up off of the child's head.

"What happened to your hair?" She heard herself say, although the effects of whatever medicine she'd been taking was probably more so the reason she had the gal to even ask. It wasn't a bad thing to not have hair, and she knew that, but it was in the way that it was cut that she assumed it wasn't something the little girl had wanted for herself.

Something flashed behind Phasma's eyes as the little girl pressed her face into the palm of Rey's uninjured hand. It was heart breaking, watching the child starve for any form of attention that wasnt abuse. "I cut it to displease Snoke." She whispered softly, something that had barely been audible.

Some form of realization ate its way through Rey, and by the time she was to say anything, someone else had burst into the room. 

"I been looking for you child!" The gravely voice of Luke announced, stepping into the room as if he were on an important mission. 

Their eyes met over the head of the little girl, and something passed over his features. Black eyes glistened as a smile carved its way across his face. 

"Ne'er mind." He quipped before springing forward. 

 

The rest happened within moments as a foul smelling bag was wrapped around her head, and her body was thrust through the door of the room and dragged down the stairs. 

It was too much for her senses, and the nausea had kicked in ten fold as she clawed her way at everything she could get her hands on. 

"Oh shut up, you dum' bitch!" A growl, and her body had given up as it was tugged onto the back and pressed into the hard metal of what she could only assume to be a truck bed. "If you run from me, yer dead meat. I don care if yer the boys wife er not."

She froze and remained as still as she could with the fact that her senses were raw, and her stomach was up in her throat. She was going to die, and Ben wasn't going to be there to save her this time.

She clutched at the uncomfortable metal of the truck bed, her nails chipping and cracking away painfully as she tried to keep herself from rolling.

 

And then just as quickly as it happened, she was being thrown out of the truck and onto her back, the bag over her head being forcefully ripped off before she watched the back of the truck scamper away.

Her heart seized up within her chest as she sat there, watching the dust dance up from around the vehicle as it clawed its way down the empty broken highway. The remnants of dawn stretched across the sky in deep hues of pink and gold, and if not for her situation she would have found it to be one of the most beautiful sunrises she'd ever seen. 

She was free, they had dropped her off, and now she was  _free._

She greedily soaked in the sunrise as she watched it kiss it's way up the horizon, slow and beautiful but almost apocalyptic in the way it cast shadows against the landscape. Revealing that she was surrounded by nothing, a woman engulfed by the wasteland. She had not pulled herself up from lying on her back, but when she finally did her entire body ached; making her cry out in pain. 

Her hand had begun to bleed through it's wraps, staining the white bandages a nasty vermillion color that blackened in places. But she was free, and she would be taken care of as soon as she found help. Yes, yes that was it- she'd find help, and she'd expose the true evil of that tiny town.

She pushed herself to her feet and sucked in a sharp inhale at the way her stomach churned. She must look awful, with the torn fabric of the blue dress that was all matted in blood and god knows what else. But she began walking, deciding to walk the opposite way from where the truck had disappeared off to.

 

* * *

 

  ** _The Willow Boys (Andrew Willow)_**

 

_It's the time of the season_

_when the love runs high_

_and this time, give it to me easy_

_and let me try with pleasured hands_

 

  Andrew Willow took a deep drag from the joint he'd saved just for the occasion, and passed it off to his brother Caleb Willow before seeing something far up in the distance.

At first he'd just played it off as a tree, or the weed, but after a few moments it was wriggling with life under the beautiful skies of Texas. It was surreal, this black little dot, and it didn't help that the song on the radio spurred to life so loud that it crackled in the speakers of the 1980 Jeep Cherokee.

_To take you in the sun to (promised lands)_

_to show you every one_

_its the time of the season for loving_

 

 Andrew casually looked over to his brother who looked ahead apparently so fucking high that his blue eyes were barely open. For a moment he was thinking about saying something, but he kept his jaw shut because he could be just seeing shit again. He had a knack for seeing weird shit after smoking a fat one.

His fingers twitched, and he couldn't help but fidget with his holy jeans, before looking up ahead and back at the dot that had grown significantly within mere seconds. But everything felt like it was dragging on, the song which sizzled against the speakers, seemed to play in slow motion. So much so, that he began to laugh to himself before leaning back to close his eyes.

 

_What's your name?_

_Who's your daddy?_

_(He rich) is he rich like me?_

_Has he taken, any time (any time)_

_(To show) to show you what you need to live_

 

 

When his twin had all but announced their mini vacation, he had laughed loud and hard. Georgia boys just didn't up and take damn vacations, not when they had a full nine to five job, not when they were suffering and living out a shitty double wide with little to nothin but electricity and weed. But after double taking and seeing that his brother was dead serious, he had sat down and let his mind reel on whether or not they'd ever gone on vacation in the last twenty five years of their life. They hadn't, in fact, being caught up in the damn system for so long- he realized- they'd never had anything but themselves.

He swallowed dryly before cracking an eye open to glare at his twin, who had apparently seen the dot as well because his eyes were wide with curiosity. The song mulled on, and it seemed to go on forever just like the cracked road before them. It was now daylight, and the dot had all but turned into a woman.

_Tell it to me slowly (tell me what)_

_I really want to know_

_Its the time of season for loving._

 

She really was a pretty thing, he thought, as they began to near her. As pretty as one could be all caked up in dirt and blood, and for a moment it reminded him of a movie he'd watched as a kid. The movie with some guy waving around a damn chainsaw, and the family was a bunch of crazy sons a bitches. He cracked a smile, feeling proud, as they passed her. His smile didn't last long before their jeep pulled off to the side of the road, and all but rolled to a stop.

"whatcha doing?" He began, peeling himself from the leather seats to glare at the curly blonde hair his brother insisted on growing out so he could put it in one of those fucking man buns.

"you see her?" Caleb began, eyes wide and red. He had begun to fidget in his seat before going to open up his driver side door.

"Hell no you don't." Andrew quipped, loud and angry as he snatched at the wiry arm of his brother. "You see that bitch? Theres no tellin what we'll get ourselves into..."

"That's a shame."

"Whats a shame?" His eyes narrowed at his brother who had looked away and towards the side view mirror. His face was hard as he seemed to follow the woman.

"If some one were to find you, out here in the middle of no where, all bloodied and hurt. I'd like to think they'd help your ass." And just like that his brother was pulling himself out of the vehicle and he was staring off, his brain fogging up.

The loud crackle of the radio, that he'd turned up so he could ignore what was happening outside, began to eat away- pulling him back under. It was a new song, one that echoed hauntingly in his skull. 

 

_Angel came down from heaven yesterday_

_she stayed with me long enough to rescue me_

_and she told me a story yesterday,_

_about the sweet love between the moon and the deep blue sea_

_and then she spread her wings high over me_

_she said she's gonna come back tomorrow_

 

He listened, jaw set, before his eyes flickered back to watch his brother walk up with the girl who was shaking and crying.

Time had stopped, and his chest felt all tight all of a sudden as if he'd taken a particularly long hit. _Damn_. He thought, his brother's words eating up at him as his eyes flickered over her.

Her auburn hair glinted red in the sun as she limped, her golden skin slick with sweat and dust, her mouth was moving but with the music blaring he couldn't tell what the hell was going on. All he knew was the closer they got to the car the more and more he wanted to see her all cleaned up, and happy. Something churned in his chest, and he swallowed dryly again. He had a problem, and it had been that way for a long ass time. It was something he could never really talk to his brother about, because his brother could woo and bring the girl's in easy and selfishly. Whereas 'ole Andrew here, had a problem with falling in love with strangers. He didn't know why he did so, maybe it was just the little things, strange things or ways they carried themselves. 

But it was definitely a problem. Most of the time he'd have to play it off as if he didn't give a shit, or just watch his brother go on bringing them in just to take them from him.

 

_Sure enough this morning came to me_

_silver wings silhouetted against the child's sunrise_

_and my angel she said on to_

_"Today is the day for you to rise,_

_take my hand, you're gonna be a man,_

_you're gonna rise."_

_And she then took me high over yonder_

 

Maybe this was different, maybe just maybe these feelings of his only meant that he'd do anything to see this girl happy.

He turned down the radio just as they got up to the car. Just as his eyes met the wild eyes of hazel green, he couldn't help but feel as if he were suffocating.

She was quiet although she was trembling, and her eyes were so red from the tears running down her cheeks; well he couldn't help but feel too sober.

"Andrew meet Rey." His brother smiled, it was a soft genuine smile, but his eyes glinted devilishly. He wanted to punch him for being such a fucking horn dog. 

"Uh, 'ello" Andrew quipped, watching as his brother opened the door and laid the driver seat down so she could climb into the back seats. She shuffled in and the entire vehicle suddenly reeked of sweat and copper; it mingled dangerously with the smell of grass, and he found himself slightly nauseous.

Yet again she didn't say anything, but just trembled. Her hand, which he'd come to notice, had bled through the wrapping of makeshift gauze and what not. None the less it was getting on the leather seats that he couldn't bring himself to care for. Instead he watched his brother climb into the driver's side and began driving.

The radio was all but turned off, and the sounds of gravel spitting up underneath the tires sang gloriously. He rolled down his window, feeling the outside air against the sweat that begun to accumulate against his brow.

Every so often he'd find himself looking over his shoulder at the woman who'd settled in to just staring out the window at the scenery outside. She had stopped trembling as bad, but her tan skin had begun to pale in the morning light, and he figured it was from the blood loss. 

"Here girlie, got some water. You need to drink somethin'" He said, pulling his water bottle from it's place beside his seat. He offered it to her; watching the way she eyed it before her eyes flashed up to his. They stared at each other for a moment, before she took the bottle away from him and sipped at it. "You too pretty to go and die on us." He chuckled, trying to lighten to mood, but only watched as a deep blush crawled it's way up her neck and to her face.

And he all but died and gone to heaven, because that damn blush was too pretty. Prettier than the sunset this morning. But then again he was still pretty fucked up, especially so to think that the blood on her cheek was _cute_.

She only answered by drinking more of his water. His eyes flickered from her and to his brother who watched him curiously, probably shittin' himself with the fact that he'd never seen him flirt.

Neither boy asked her what had happened, and neither boy tried prying into her life.

 The silence had died far too soon.

"Turn around." A whimper announced in the back seat, just as they passed the sign that read  _WELCOME TO FALCON COUNTY._

He glanced back at her, noticing how she'd begun to rock in her seat, her eyes white with fear. "What?" Caleb quipped, and Andrew watched how his knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. Something settled within his gut, something twisted and heavy like anxiety.

"Pleeeeease." She began to cry, her voice breaking mournfully, and suddenly the car was being lurched to the side of the road with such force that it was no wonder they didn't roll the damn thing. "Turn around, they'll be coming. They'll be coming!" She began to scream, her hands clawing into the leather, and he caught a glimpse of purple fingers underneath that gauze. His heart raced, a sickening thud in his chest as he turned to his brother who was watching him in the seat.

They both shared a look, that twin look, the look that told everything. 

Andrew leaned down, pulling at the pistol under his seat, ever so slowly. Bringing it close enough to hide, but not to scare the lady in the back. He watched Caleb fiddle with an old hunting knife.

"You mean to tell me we ridin' into danger honey?" Caleb's southern drawl had turned deep, one that was almost full of regret. The woman nodded furiously. 

He whipped the jeep around, kicking up enough dust in it's departure to miss the old rusty truck in the distance.

The vehicle lurched forward, clawing with speed up the cracked asphalt. 

Then it happened, the loud ring of a gunshot, and the feeling of the back tire shredding. The Jeep kicked forward off of the ground, just as Andrew had taken the chance to crawl into the back with the gun dug in his jeans so he could protect the girl from flying through a window. It was a stupid move and he barely made it before the vehicle began to roll, but he did it. He pressed her close, shielding her as their world rolled and cracked apart. The mashing sound of metal, and the feeling of glass cutting into the flesh of his arms and back.

But just as it all had started, it stopped, and he felt broken. How he even survived was surprising, but he saved the girl, he could tell the way she clutched at him. They had been thrown around like a rag doll, but they made it.

He wheezed, feeling his ribs splinter, but it was nothing he hadn't felt before.

"Caleb!" He called, his voice ringing painfully in his own ears. A muffled reply echoed, something that sounded too much like, "You stupid fucking idiot."

 They pressed into what, he could now tell through spotted vision, was the roof of the underside of the van which had rolled upside down and stayed like that. The framework was bent all too hell, and something in him hurt to see it end up like this after all the years the boys had worked on it.

A soft weeping sound echoed from his arms and he looked down, her lip was split and her nose was bloodied all too hell. She was beautiful.

"Shhhh its okay baby, just breathe, everything will be okay." He murmured, his dirty thumbs wiping at the tears that streamed from her eyes. He didn't know her, but he felt like he did.

Nothing was going to be okay. 

A loud cackle announced from outside of the jeep. "God damn,  if I thought shooting the damn tire would do this. I ought to do this more." The sound of an old man made the hair on his neck prickle, and he felt himself stiffen.

The engine of the Jeep had spurted out and died, leaving way to listen to the shuffle of feet against the hard blistering clay. The girl in his arms had quieted down and shut her eyes.

He didn't know if he could move, but didn't bother doing so as he listened.

"The meats prolly tenderized by now, you think?" The sound of a little boy had cut through the air not too long after. Andrew moved to get the gun from his pants when the girl was being drug out of the broken window by her feet.

She was screaming now.

His gut dropped, and he began to move. His bones popped painfully, and he felt like he was about to black out from the pain in his side but he made it to his brother in time to see a large piece of glass sticking out of his brother's forehead. It didn't look too deep, but it was bleeding like a mother fucker. He pulled it out and slapped his brothers face. 

"Wake up Caleb, wake up now. I need you here with me buddy." He wheezed, watching as the blue eyes opened and stared up at him. He looked worn out, but he was alive. "come on man, I need you right now." His brother was hanging upside down, the seat belt had cut into the skin of his collar bone, and cut his neck all to hell. His face was angry red from the circulation, and the knife of his had fallen from his hand. Andrew used the knife to cut the seatbelt as the screaming got worse from outside.

 Then it was his turn to be pulled out from the vehicle, large hands dug into his arms and all but threw him away from the vehicle like he was a rag doll. The dirt and dust suffocated him as he landed, his face burning against the hard ground, he coughed and watched through sandy eyes as the blood flecked the clay surface. The pistol was in his hand in no time, from second nature of having it on his person. 

He lifted it just in time to shoot at the man in front of him. He'd never seen a man like this one as he watched the bullet lodge itself in the right shoulder. A whine echoed, it was high pitched and strained, and looked absurd coming from the beast of a boy. The man was pure darkness, a pure devil conjured up by the hard clay of the land, and he instantly fit the definition of what Andrew had always believed the devil to look like.

He'd shot him, but it didn't stop him as the devil surged forward again, a large knife glinting dangerously in the sun.

He had only one chance now, and he knew it as he gripped the gun tighter and aimed at the man's head.

Just as his finger pulled at the trigger, the gun had been kicked from his hand with such force that his hand broke at the impact.

 

* * *

 

  _ **Rey**_

 

They were going to die, both of them. 

She could see it the moment Ben had drug the man, the man that had held her in his arms seconds before, by his feet.

And with as much as she would have enjoyed the fantasy of that poor boy (Andrew was it?) shooting these monsters, she knew that he'd kill Ben, and she would be alone again. That the brothers were in no shape to take on the other two, gun or no, the others would be on them within seconds. If she hadn't done what she did, hadn't kicked the gun and felt as the bullet barely missed her face, then she would be alone. Alone with the rest of the fucking crazies this town had to offer.

Ben was her _only_ way of survival, her _only_ way of getting out of there. Which was why she couldn't let him die.

She watched the Andrew cough up blood as the first shot rung out, his face was masked in pure fear, something that she would never forget.

Before this decision, it was the sound of the bullet hitting flesh, of the whine that broke the morning air from Ben, that made her surge forward and kick the gun from the boy's hand. She regretted it just as she did it, feeling the bones in his hand crack under the force of her kick, watching as his eyes darted to her and filled with something like hurt and betrayal.

In another life she could have allowed him to save her, she could have seen him kill off Luke, Armitage, and even Ben. In another life she could have maybe given this stranger a chance, could have finally settled down with kids and a house, could have maybe fallen in love for the first time. But that was in another life, and as she watched the blade splinter the boy's face. The blade split his face open like butter, and as he looked her in the eye, she felt a piece of herself die on the inside.

She watched as the beast defiled the body, gaining upon it with a new form of passion. He came to life against the clay land, a scorched stain hovering over humans like a god scorning men. Her gaze lingered on his dark hair which glinting against the sun. She watched in a daze, feeling her sanity hide away in the creases of her brain.

She just killed someone, it wasn't her first time killing, but this was someone _innocent_. 

This wasn't someone deserving her punishment.

This was someone who had crawled into the backseat of that car and kept her alive. 

Never mind that before all of this she had been tricked into thinking she was free. 

But at least she saved Ben. She saved Ben out of the selfish need to save herself. Even if she would hate herself for the rest of her life.

She looked away from the sight, quickly not wanting to commit anymore of it into her brain, and glanced over watching as Armitage had gotten to the brother in the car; scalping the poor boy. She didn't watch it much longer, she couldn't. She was the reason for this, the reason for their deaths. Noticing the feeling of eyes on her she glanced over to her right, towards the old rusty truck that rumbled unaffected by the scenes.

The only one that wasn't doing anything was Luke, who she found was watching her dangerously, his eyes daring her to run. Daring her to give him a chance to gut her in the middle of nowhere.

She swallowed, and he smiled. His hand reaching out to take her, to probably throw her in the back. She contemplated running, giving in to wanting to die.

It would be her only escape, and she knew that. She'd never rid of these people, never be able to get away from them.

She turned away. 

From hesitating she watched as Luke readied himself out of the corner of her eye.

It would be so easy, to just give in. Let them kill her.

She gazed out at the land, at the freedom.

And just as she was about to run, she felt _him_. He'd crept up behind her and wrapped corded muscle around her, arms thicker than her damn thighs hugged at her stomach, pulling her back against smoldering heat and sweat. The smell of coin stifled her as she felt him rest his face against her own, his crooked jaw finding it's place on the junction between neck and shoulder. He huffed, blowing the strands of hair from her face, his breath hot on her sweaty skin.

No, she couldn't leave. That's what he seemed to say as his arms flexed, and with a side glance she could see he was looking past her and to Luke whose eyes narrowed dangerously.

A growl rumbled through him, vibrating against her. It was a possessive and dangerous, a warning.

Her skin erupted in chills as she closed her eyes, tears threatening to spill.

No, she would never be able to leave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long!!  
> I just wanted to thank everyone for commenting, and for liking the story so far.  
> You guys are truly the best, and fuel me to give more life to these twisted characters.  
> I hope you enjoy the story so far, it will pick up more, and I plan on updating it more frequently. So stay tuned!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From seeing all of the wonderful feedback, I just couldn't help myself.  
> Thank you. 
> 
> Now feed my darlings, on the ever churning darkness that keeps sporadically spewing from my heart.
> 
> On today's Ted Talk we will be discussing: "Will Rey manage to keep from losing her mind?"

 

She couldn't dare even herself to move as she felt his arms lift her, soft and sweet and gentle. She had closed her eyes, and didn't bother trying to opening them as she felt him place her in the back of the truck. All she could do was let her mind dissociate, let it take her to another place.

So, she pretended she was in another life, just a love struck girl taking a ride in the country side.

Someone that didn't just watch two gruesome murders, or even had anything to do with the fact that _she was the reason they died._

She ground her teeth and listened as they loaded up the truck behind her, knowing that they were putting the bodies in the back with her by the smell alone. She fought for composure and leaned her head back to dig into the metal of the pick up. Something, or someone (Ben), had settled in next to her in the bed of the truck. The heat alone radiating from his body had all but added onto the Texan heat. Still she didn't bother opening her eyes, she couldn't because knowing if she did she would see the two brothers.

The truck began to move, and a slick sliding sound echoed, followed by thumps up against the tailgate.

To remain from flying out of the truck, she'd brought both arms out; one to hold onto the side of the truck, and the other (her left hand) to grasp onto Ben.

All was silent save for the gurgle and whine of transmission.

 She began to cry, they were silent tears followed by the fact that she had to stifle from screaming by biting into her tongue. 

The heavy feeling in her chest seemed to coil up and squeeze the life out of her so much so that she could remember. _**Remember**_.

 

_She had waited, but then again she had been waiting for the last eight years of living under the Plutt household, in the dark._

_It was her eighteenth birthday, 12:00 AM to be **exact,** and she couldn't help but practically **feel** the minute that signified her freedom._

_She'd stayed up planning, just as she had planned for the last eight years, but she was sure she would get it right now. She had to, that is, because she couldn't allow another soul to go through the absolute hell that she had to go through. She could picture it, a little kid being brought all wrapped up like a present to the sin of a man that was Unkar Plutt._

_She rolled out of bed, feeling the dirty grime of a floor beneath her feet and didn't bother looking at the bottoms of her feet. They were dark, permanently etched that way from hard-living, that it was a surprise that the case workers even allowed this situation. But they also didn't know the fact that she'd have to clean the house inside out before they came, or the fact that she knew that he was paying them for good reviews._

_She looked around her closet sized room, taking in the twin sized bed, and the dresser just across from it. The room was completely bare, nothing to prove that a teenage girl was living in it, nothing to prove of her existence. She swallowed dryly, and walked to the dresser which groaned from the attention of her pulling out the underwear drawer. The needle glinted mischievously and she smiled to herself as she lifted it. She'd worked hard for the needle, and the insulin that it held captive. Years of working under the table by doing weird side jobs off of craigslist earned her enough for this **one** shot. _

_Her eyes flickered back to the clock which now read 12:10 AM, and told herself she had to remember this._

_She tiptoed from the closet space that led directly into the master bedroom (for it was in fact the walk in closet space of Plutt's bedroom that served the purpose of her bedroom). The small nightlight in her room cast a small eerie glow into his room as did the moon. She stood there for a few seconds, not wanting to waste time, before she walked closer. Her bare feet were as light as a feather against the carpet, and she bypassed the broken shards of glass bottles, and the cigarette butts. The needle glinted, feeling quite heavy in her hand, and she was by his side. The side closest to the door just in case she had to run, and slowly lowered herself to the bedside to examine his hand which hung sloppily off of the bed._

_She cracked a smile at the thought of his reaction, of if a monster were to grab that hand and yank him down into the abyss of piss and shit where he belonged. She uncapped the needle and didn't bother flicking the bubble out as she eyed the hand. The very hand that had been used to constantly ridicule her, **hurt** her, **defile** her. And now she could never be normal because of him. _

_She closed her eyes and took a breath, for wasn't this something that she had wished for- for this long? Murder was bad, she knew, if it were found out she would be serving a life time sentence. But she had to risk it, she was going to hell already, and there was nothing in her life to hope for but the fact that she was eliminating a pedophile and a bad man._

_She slowly took his hand, ever so lightly, and watched for a reaction as she dipped the needlepoint into the skin underneath his pinky finger; and watched with morbid fascination as she slowly injected the overdose of insulin into his bloodstream._

_You see, Unkar Plutt, was a type two diabetic. One in fact that didn't quite take his medicine correctly, and she had done enough research on the matter to know that the amount she was injecting him with was enough to send his fat ass into the grave._

_Once the deed was done, she stood up and capped the needle, and waited. And waited, and waited for what felt like forever when it couldn't have been any more than just a few minutes._

_The old man lurched forward, eyes bright and wide as the sharp intake of breath hissed through the air. He looked around frantically as his overly fat fingers shot to his chest, sweat had begun to bead up above his lip as his eyes honed onto the little girl at the side of his bed. "Rey." His voice wheezed, and now he was reaching for her. "Help...h-help"_

_She took a step back and cocked her head, watching as he processed her reaction. One of her hands was behind her back, hiding the needle from his view as he panicked. "Rey, god damn it- Help me." He moaned, his voice high and broken as he began to sweat more before he began to shake. His body lurched forward as he began to violently shake, his eyes were rolling back into his head, and his hands grasped blindly at the sheets as a seizure overcame him._

_She watched, feeling the weight of the world slowly dissipating from her shoulders. She was free. Free. Free._

_She turned then, and began walking out of the room and to the other bedroom across from the hall (the one that was only her room when the case workers came). Without turning to watch the rest of the scene, she had closed her door behind her and walked to her bed._

_She was free._

_There was no more running away in the dead of night, there was no more punishments, no more evil._

_She'd eliminated the evil._

_She smiled as she went to sleep that night with the needle hidden nicely underneath her pillow._

_The police had blamed his death on the mere fact that he was both a type two diabetic, and over four hundred pounds. And by further investigation, realized that he'd been putting the cigarettes out against poor Rey's back and legs (where no one could see). They didn't even bother questioning it, any of it, as they let her go. A full blown scholarship signifying her moving from a shit town in the middle of no where, to the big city of New York, where she was to go to school to be a engineer._

 She came out of the flashback feeling much better than she had, although the mere situation that had just occurred was still fresh and vivid on her brain.

She knew she'd never be able to forget it, but she also knew that this wouldn't be the first murder; there would be many others as long as she stayed with the fucking shit show. Many more would die by the hands that now currently played with her hair. Many innocent people were going to die because of her, unless if she could do something about it. Which she would do something about it, if she could, if life hadn't taught her anything else it had taught her how to manipulate. 

She sucked in a breath of fresh air, feeling the wind whip around her hair, and felt the lurch of the truck as it passed from the asphalt and onto the dirt road. 

Her eyes had not opened since she had gotten into the truck, and she didn't bother opening them still because she knew the moment she saw them again. The moment she saw those boys, she was going to lose her mind, she was going to become irrational and stupid, and she was going to shit the chance of becoming free. 

So she leaned into the hands that played with her hair, and relaxed enough towards him to pretend as if she were enjoying it. She didn't, she couldn't, but she would have to enjoy it. She'd have to lighten up and go with the plan that she had irrationally decided, the second she had kicked that gun out of Andrew's hand. Ben was her ticket to freedom, and her instincts knew it. Now it was only the matter of making _him_ realize it. 

She licked at her dry lips as she thought, remembering every little detail of the past (whatever time) events that have happened with her staying. 

Ben was sweet, at least to her, she had decided as she curled her good hand into the fabric of her dress. He was sweet on her, and lately he'd been more territorial and possessive. So her being the wife to him must be a good thing, it meant she gained some sort of safety. She remembered the way he had looked at Luke, the deep upsetting rage that filtered through his eyes as he practically dared the old man to do something. 

And then it clicked, every little thing, of how his family never actually physically put their hands on him. None of them bothered to get physically angry, no, because he was too strong. He was too much for them to handle physically. So it was more of a mental game, and every single conversation she could remember correctly from Leia had verified the point. The only way they could hurt him was emotionally.

 _"Look at what you did!!"_ Leia's voice hissed within her mind, and she smiled. None of them were ever nice to him, were they? 

They just shouted profanities at him, hurt him mentally, just so they could control him. But other than that, they had no control over him, they only _thought_ they did.

Ben was a weapon, he was raised to be a weapon.

 _But_ for a moment she tried imagining him as a normal man going through life, actually marrying a woman who loved him and having a bunch of dark haired babies running around. 

But she couldn't really imagine that, could she? He was too wicked of a creature, and the images of him wearing Poe's face flitted across her brain.

 _Time_ , it would take time, but she could do it. She was a survivor, and it was all she had ever been. In the raging heat of Texas she wasn't a college graduate, she wasn't an orphan, she wasn't a twenty-three year old girl, she was the wife of Ben. She was apart of the family. And although she couldn't bring herself to pretend any further than that, she knew that she'd have to use it to her advantage. She may not become a cannibal, she may not enjoy it or even bring herself to enjoy any of it, but she would damn sure survive through it.

 On cue, the truck churned to a stop.

 

"Alright boy! You know what to do!" Luke's voice drifted from the driver's side as the sound of the truck doors opening and closing issued through the air.  They'd finally stopped, but she was still keeping her eyes closed until the feeling of arms around her engulfed her once again.

"We got worried about you, so we came to the shop." The soft trickle of Phasma's voice brought her to look straight into the hazel depth's of the man that she'd seen on the first day of being introduced to the family. He was the one who had picked her up, and now held her like she were a broken doll. He was an older man, possibly around the age (if not older) than Leia. And for a moment all she could see was the shape of Ben's eyes gazing at her. "Oh, that's ole Han." Phasma quipped again, and Rey tore her eyes away from the man to find the little girl.

They were not at the house, she included, as she looked at the deep underbelly of the woods that had more or less turned into a swamp. The morning light did nothing to hide the ramshackle shed just a few feet from them, and instantly her gut told her that's where all of the poor people were dragged off to. 

"Accidentally fucked her up abit" Armitage's voice floated to them as he slithered out of the front door to the shed, head to toe in blood like a mechanic would be head to toe in grease. Phasma had made a face, something in between sad and angry before glancing from Armitage to her.

"Is that true?" She asked, eyes blown wide as red began to filter to her porcelain pale skin. All Rey could do was nod and bury herself further into the arms of the man, who'd stood there quiet as a mouse.

"Yeah but don't be mad, we had ta." He was now upon them, the angry grins and mischievous aura had begun to wither into something strange and foreign. Almost like guilt if it weren't the fact he was so damn prideful. "But it was a good hunt, I'd never seen a damn car flip like dat."

Phasma's face grew an angry red, and a loud audible pop echoed. Rey blinked in surprise, watching as the force of the slap had whipped the boy's head to the side.

Everything grew silent, deadly silent, so silent that Rey didn't even want to be there anymore than she was already forced to be. 

But then the boy was laughing, loud and shrill, something like admiration playing through his eyes.

"I'd been takin' care of her for how long!? HOW LONG HUX?!" Phasma hissed her hands waving about her in a way that made Rey think that the little girl liked to talk with her hands too. "Come on Han, lets take er home. Get her away from these..." She never finished the sentence, not when she was being dragged back to the wiry body of the boy, a hand clasped tight around her throat.

It had all happened so quickly. Rey climbing out of Han's arms like a damn alley cat escaping a mutt. She had to get to them, she had to make sure the little girl was safe.

But a hand caught her bicep and yanked her back as if she were on a leash. Her eyes flickered behind her to the old man whose eyes were sad, a sorry shake of the head.  _No._

The sight was horrifying, Phasma's back pressed into the front of Armitage's, her arm twisted behind her roughly with a hand on her throat. Rey had to give it to her though, the girl didn't cry or fight, she stood there and took it. Her bright blue eyes promising malice.

Armitage was whispering into her ear, and when he looked up to make eye contact with Rey; he looked just like a devil. He'd even cracked a smile for the effect.

She was being pulled away towards the dark flush of flora, her body (which had begun to ache with whiplash) was pulled back up into Han's embrace.

The last thing she saw as they walked out of view was the little boy let go of the girl, and quickly as if in secret; pressed a kiss to the side of her cheek.

 

 _This family is so fucked up._ Rey thought, trying to relax although it was extremely uncomfortable. Too much had happened today. It left her so tired, and so broken feeling; but she knew she had to push through the feeling so she wouldn't become vulnerable enough for Leia to strike again. Really, she had to toughen the fuck up.

She was too caught up in her head to miss the details of where they were, which was a big no no in her book because she'd _always_ scoped out places. So, when they came out of the tree line near the barn, she felt her heart rocket up into her throat.

"I'm never getting away, am I?" It was a rhetorical question at this point, but she had asked it anyways. Somehow feeling brave enough to bring it up to this gentle stranger. The only signs of him hearing her though, were the stiffness that came into his gait, and the sadness that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. She swallowed dryly and licked at her chapped lips before continuing.

"You cant speak can you?"

A shake of the head said that  _no, no he couldn't._

"Why not? Are you like Ben?" Her voice wavered as she said the name, and it earned her a surprised look.

Again,  _No._

Her brows furrowed and just before they'd gotten into the proximity of the old country house, which had stuck up from the land like an old watch dog, Han had let her down gently. And then as if in secret he hunched in on himself, leaned down to bring his face closer to her own, and opened his mouth wide.

For a moment she didn't know what she was looking at from all the lack of teeth save for a few in the front, but it was the lack of that scared her more than anything else.

A blackened nub stuck out where his tongue should have been.

A sick realization squeezed at her heart before she found her voice again.

"They cut your tongue out didn't they?"

At this, a solid jerk of the old man's head signified that  _yes, yes they have._

Tears had begun to trickle themselves down her cheeks as she watched his mouth snap shut, and he turned away as if embarrassed. 

She didn't know what to say, all in all she was lost of words as she had been the entire day (pretty much), but she found herself lacing her fingers into his own to give him a gentle squeeze.  _Everything will be okay._ She wanted to say.  _I'll make them pay, I'll make them all pay._

 

 

* * *

 

 

She had found the washroom just down the hall from the room that was suppose to be Ben's and hers. It was a tiny little bathroom with soft pale blue walls that peeled in places, and puckered black in others. She didn't have to have the internet to know that the black stuff was mold.

Before, when she'd first come into their bedroom, she'd gone through every nick and cranny of every dresser and drawer to realize that there were no clothes for her other than the dress she had on her back. The only other clothes were men's clothes, more than likely Ben's clothes. Which she didn't mind men's clothes, and had never wanted to take to wearing dresses for this long in her life, but something deep within her told her that- that was the way of the household. But, without caring she made due with what she had, as she grabbed at the first thing she could get her hands on; a dirt stained shirt (by sniffing it she knew it was clean) and a pair of old work jeans that had a few holes in the knees that had been sewed up.

 But that was where she was now, standing in the bathroom with a pile of clothes in her hands. She'd decided to go ahead and take a shower while everyone was busy being murderers, but had seemingly forgotten the fact that she was in a house as old as time; and she didn't necessarily know the plumbing works. 

After peeing for what felt like an hour, she'd figured out that the plumbing _did_ work it was all in the matter if the _shower_ worked. And it didn't, because apparently someone had the gal to rip the damn thing out of the wall only to leave a hole filled to the brim with cobwebs. But, with what little luck she had, she realized the actual bathtub worked.

But it was a solid minute of turning the nobs before a nasty flow of brown and gunk slopped out of the spicket, and into the claw foot copper tub. She'd recoiled, thinking it would have been better to just take the clothes from the little sink edge and just change into them without a bath, but the water cleared and she was drawn in.

She couldn't remember the last time she had a bath, or at least a bath she could completely remember. 

She settled in, her bones and muscles aching painfully at the burn of the water that now began to fill up the tub. Oh but it felt soooo good. It was so painfully hot that it seemed to burn away the ache and the pain, and it took her a few minutes of sitting there trembling, to finally settle back comfortably. If she were to close her eyes, just for a moment, this all could be _normal_.

Her right hand slithered from it's place into the water, and she was quickly reminded that no- no this all had not been normal. It could never be normal. 

She looked down at the blackened wrappings of her hand and felt like crying. It was so dirty, and it would more than likely get infected at this rate. She gritted her teeth as she began to peel off the wrappings, her nerve endings were so far gone in her hand that she only watched as the wrappings pulled at the skin, pulling up scabs and causing it to bleed all over again. She threw the dirty wrapping and gauze off to the floor beside the tub, and dipped the purple marred skin underneath the surface of the water. 

A sharp guttural groan echoed from her lips as she bit down painfully.  _That_ that she could _feel._

The murky water turned a deep vermillion as she kept her hand underneath, letting the nerves feel the heat creep in. She was just happy she could still feel it, and all but smiled through the tears and pain. She didn't know how long she sat there stupidly staring at the water before the door was opened.

Hazel eyes whipped up to the dark orbs of the intruder, and she hastily covered herself up. 

Ben stood, eyes so shockingly wide, that she almost missed the fact that he was shirtless, and that his pants were unbuttoned in a way to only assume he was readying for a bath as well. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you all for reading.  
> I've become inspired to boot this story back up into hyper drive so I can get the show on the road. So, expect for me to (hopefully) update this bad boy more frequently. And since I listen to music while I write, feel free to recommend anything that reminds you of the story.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " I'm not like them  
> But I can pretend  
> The sun is gone  
> But I have a light  
> The day is done  
> But I'm having fun."
> 
> \- "Dumb" by Nirvana

 

The smell itself made her nauseous as she sat there in the filthy bloody water of the filthy and rusted tub. He smelled like death, which made perfect sense coming from the fact that he'd most likely just finished skinning two people up after brutally murdering them. 

She just wasn't prepared to see  _that._

Copious amounts of blood bathed the pale skin of his abdomen which stretched over toned muscle. The way the pale skin was flecked with red reminded her strangely of a Jackson Pollock painting, and she sat there for a few moments committing it to memory.

The expanse of his chest was scattered with scars, many of them being brutally deep gashes all puckered and pink while others were as faint and as silvery pale as the skin itself. It was odd, seeing him shirtless, and it made the horror of being married to him even more significant. The Universe must have been laughing at her for the mere fact of the pure size difference between the two. 

Her eyes lingered on the bullet hole that lazily dribbled blood down his left peck and stomach. It didn't take much to see the way someone had dug the bullet out by the many different fingerprints scattering the flesh around the wound. She swallowed, heart beating painfully in her chest as the adrenaline shuttered through her brain. She tightened her arm around her chest before drawing her knees up to her to further hide her body; not once did she take her eyes away from him.

Both of them had been staring each other down, stuck like a broken record piece, or like two old cats winding in for a fight.

It was a battle, especially for her as she felt her skin erupt into chills, and her mind had begun to short out. Should she scramble out of the bath screaming and running? Probably not...that would be the insensitive thing to do, and quite dumb too; because for one she was vulnerable and as naked as the day she was born, and two it would probably piss him off. 

So she did the first thing that came to her mind. "Don't you know it's rude to stare at a lady while she's in the bath?" Her voice clipped, wavering like a school girl caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing. The statement didn't make sense, because they were husband and wife, and it was perfectly normal for husbands and wives to do such things. Not in her book though, not in this situation, and she sure as hell wasnt about to let it slide. She would worry about the physical aspects of the relationship when she had time to mull over everything.

She knew she made an impact by the way he shuttered awake from whatever daze he'd been in.

His adam's apple bobbed a few times before he turned around on his heel and slammed the bathroom door behind him. The door shuttered within it's frame as if it would simply fall off of the hinges as it rattled the entire room, and knocked a few of the spiders from their webs on the wall.

She had not missed the way his face had turned a bright red underneath the dirt of the day, or how his ears had flushed brightly at her inquiry. 

She'd won this fight, albeit an embarrassing one, but it was important. It established the fact that he wasn't a rapist. That he actually cared enough to give her privacy while she was at her most vulnerable. All of this was something she told herself to feel better, of course she knew better than to go and assume things. She knew that they had yet to consummate their marriage, and that although she hoped and prayed it would never come- it would. It was coming, just as the darkness comes with the night.

It didn't mean that she wouldn't go out kicking and screaming though. She just needed time to _think_.

With one more look at her hand, she pulled the plug to the drain and stood up.

"You need help?" The sound of the little girl echoed through the door, as a soft knock followed. "from what I seen, you frightened ole Bubba off. So I thought it would be better if I came in and broughtcha some clothes and stuff."

Rey stood, the hot humidity of the heat of the day had begun to make her sweat. "Uh..yeah you can come in." She hesitated, eyeing the door as it opened and Phasma walked in with a basket in tow. 

"Here I got some towels for you to dry off with, and once ya get dried off I'll look at yer hand." The little girl offered up two ragged out towels the color of dirt.

Rey quickly dried off before grabbing the dress from Phasma's arms. 

The dress was an off white grey and sleeveless. It was the only clothes that the girl had given her, so much so that she wondered if any of them ever wore underwear. Nevertheless she put it on,  to find that it hung off of her like that of a maxi dress, although it was far more modest with the neckline and had short sleeves that ended just at her elbows. It would have been more so a night gown if it wasn't the type of fabric it was made out of (it reminded Rey of a worn table cloth).

"Its very pretty on you." Phasma smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I noticed how the last dress fit ya and figured I'd make this one to be a bit smaller."

"You..." Rey looked down at the dress, feeling that it had two pockets, and fiddled with the ends that went just past her knees. "You made this?"

The little girl nodded before digging into her little basket for some medical supplies. 

"Yeah I make all of the women's clothes, and I only fix up the boy's clothes. They usually go out into town to get new materials and clothes about maybe twice a year. Until then we just wear all of it till they turn into rags, and I use whatever I can find around the house." The girl rambled as she took Rey's right hand and looked at it closely, prodding with small cold fingertips. "yer hand is looking better." She stated.

Rey scoffed, and the little girl laughed. 

"Well it could be worse, but usually the bruising is what makes it look so bad." Phasma continued, and Rey glanced up towards the girl's neck out of the memory of the way Armitage's hand had tightened around the it. Noticing this, Phasma's cheery mood died and her fingers subconsciously rubbed at the red welts just under her jaw. It didn't last long before she was back at cleaning Rey's hand.

"He didn't hurt you did he?" Rey whispered softly, feeling the dab of alcohol where a few of the stitches were pulled loose.

"That's just how he is, he trys to act bad so he can fit in." Phasma mumbled, "He aint nothin' but a boy, a scared lil boy."

Rey said nothing more as she watched the little girl wrap her hand up with gauze and new ointment to help soothe the pain. Then after everything was done, she was handed medicine that she swallowed dry. 

"Its about mid day and the boys are done with the.." Phasma sighed softly, "They about to go and work around the house, and usually id have ya help me cut up the meat and begin prepping it for dinner. But since yer still hurt, and you had a big day. I'd say you need to get some rest. We got all the time in the world for you to get use to the family." Phasma patted her arm, and then pulled her down to sit on the toilet lid so she could braid her wet hair back off of her face. Rey did so without hesitation, and found it strange that she trusted her so much. 

"How long..." She whispered, her breath low and rushed. She closed her eyes as she relished the feel of the little girl's hands in her hair. 

"Give er take three years." Phasma answered, surprising Rey with the fact that she'd known what her question was. "and I still haven't gotten use to it all." 

"I'm sorry..." She felt her throat tighten up.

"Don't cry, cryin' just shows em theyre winnin'" The little girl cooed, sounding more adult than any woman Rey knew. "the one thing I'll tell you, and I'll tell you once Rey. And that is to not let them in, the moment you do- they'll eat ya alive."

 

 

They passed Ben when they emptied out into the hallway; he had stood there dripping blood onto the hardwood floors with his arms crossed silently as if he were patiently waiting. And just as they left the door, he brushed past her, the flesh of his arm brushing against her own as he maneuvered his way inside.

She shuttered and paused to watch him from just over her shoulder. 

Without as much as a sound or a glance, he disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind him with a loud bang. 

The girls both looked at one another before Phasma was dragging her into the direction of her room.

When they made it behind the closed door Phasma grabbed Rey's hands and began speaking in hushed tones. "Everythin' I said stays between us." her voice cracked with emotion.

Rey could only nod before she watched her pull away and disappear out the door.

 

She stood there for a long time, just staring at the surface of the door, wondering if any moment someone was going to walk in and ruin the silence once more.

Ben never came, and she didn't like the deep unsettled feeling low in her stomach at the thought of him even slightly angry at her.

She finally turned, ignoring the strange feeling.

 

Daylight streamed in through the dusty window that hung sorrowfully against the wooden walls. Now that she was lucid enough, she was able to take in the room for what it was, hollow and bare. From where she sat on the bed (which had been pushed up against the wall adjacent to the door) she was able to make due with the fact that it was definitely an old country home. The room was small, but big enough to fit a good sized vanity and a dresser, both that looked so old that they had a string of cobwebs blanketing the surfaces. The vanity sat perched just below the window, probably there for the natural light, and she found herself walking over to it. 

Although she was tired, she was too awake after the day to be able to lie down to sleep. So she sat down in the old hand made chair of deep mahogany, and braced herself for it to break (which it didn't thankfully). She felt herself shift, hearing as the wood settled and groaned from the weight, and brushed the dust off of the mirror's surface with her good hand.  

She didn't bother really looking at her reflection, she knew what she'd see, and she chose not to see it as she wiped her hand on her dress and found comfort in peering out the muddy window. Contemplating whether or not  of breaking the mirror to achieve a piece of glass that she could maybe wedge in there quick enough to end her life. 

But Rey was too stubborn, and she always had been.

If she were to die now, they would only keep killing. No, she needed to stay alive.

She seemingly watched the clouds within the sky as she thought back to all of the years in her foster homes. Of how she had (especially when she was younger) chosen to break every single reflective surface she could put her hands on. To simply put it, she hated her reflection and had always hated the person staring back at her. 

Or, to put it in a better light. Seeing herself made her mind wander to what her parents would have looked like. If she had her mother's eyes or her fathers nose. It was never a good thought path to travel down, even now when she was stranded and forgotten. 

Something caught her eye, something moving down below, and she quickly realized her bedroom faced the barn. That the object moving was Ben walking against the cut grass of the property, his hands disappeared into the pockets of the pants she had picked out earlier from the dresser.

Her chest tightened painfully as she realized he was wearing the clothes she had picked out to wear before Phasma brought her with the dress.

Ben walked with a limp towards the barn; something glistened off of the back of his head that made her hone in on what looked like a leather strap (from what she could see from so far). He was almost to the barn door before he stopped, his head cocking to the side. He stood there for a few moments before he turned, facing her and the window as if he'd felt her gaze on his back. 

Chills erupted across her skin as she instinctually scrambled from the vanity chair. Her heart had begun to race again, and a different sort of heat crept up her face. She'd been caught, she knew it, and she couldn't get the image from her head. The image that would even put Hannibal Lecter to shame.

The muzzle, it was a _muzzle_ , from what she could see from the distance.

It had made him look wild, like an animal. 

She swallowed dryly, peeling herself from the wall that she had wedged herself up against.

 

* * *

 

 

 She couldn't sleep, and after watching the shadows of the day begin to change and settle within the room. She'd decided to curl up into a ball on top of the bed, which had been made since she'd last been in it. 

It was a nice bed, very old, with pillows and blankets that smelled like old antique stores. It was a smell that made one think of old bookstores and dim lit coffee shops, and it would have been comforting once but it wasn't now.

"Did you rest any?" Phasma's voice called as Rey listened to the door open and close. She kept her back to the door, and tried settling her nerves, which proved useless. 

A grumble rumbled out of her as she shrugged.

"Well, Leia's about to come home from church. I would like to have you down helping me set the table, so she wont get a bug up her ass." The little girl murmured, and breathlessly chuckled at her own joke. It was enough to show Rey that she genuinely felt that way about the woman. That Rey rolled over to face the girl and the door. Phasma had always made her feel as if she were let in on a massive secret, and that was the fact that she wasn't the only one that hated that old bitch.

 "Yeah. I'll do that." She responded, pulling her tired muscles from the bed. She was sore, and would be for god knows how long, but she used it as a reminder. She was a survivor. She'd survive this. 

 From hearing her reply the girl giggled seemingly young again, and pulled Rey (by her good hand) through the bedroom door and down the hallway. They got down the stairs before Phasma stopped and looked up at her again.

"The boys don't come in until after mama comes in, just lettin' ya know." As they walked into the dining room and towards a massive table that sat there, Phasma kept talking. "Ben comes in last though, always, he doesn't believe he deserves the prayer said in the beginning. In his line of work, he just comes in and whatever is left of food- he'll eat. And if there aint any food- he wont eat." She shrugged as if that were the most normal thing in the world. "Or that's what I've noticed, he don't ever talk so I don't know if that's how it really is."

"Oh." Was all she could say as she eyed the chair she'd been chained to all those nights ago. 

They went to start setting the table, bringing out a total of eight plates, eight glasses, and silverware. It was a simple job, one that Rey did mindlessly for she had been a waitress back in New York, for some small diner to pay rent for her apartment. Just remembering it all felt like it was in another life.

It was a great get away before she was being passed the food. The food, the food, the  _food._

It looked sinfully good, and it smelled even better. Just looking at it though, one would have thought it was just simple pig roast, and not cut from the bones of a human. Her stomach growled, but her mind fought it every step of the way.

She set it down as quickly as she'd put her hands on it, and busied her brain enough to pull it from the fact that she was about to witness a family of cannibals devour flesh out of the name of the lord.

She'd set the table quite quickly, leaving Phasma to smile happily at her. "I made some vegetables and stuff for you...so you wouldn't have ta- ya know." She whispered, her cheery resolve melting as the door of the house creaked open.

"Its smelling lovely in here Phasma." A hiss of a voice echoed and crept in amongst the floorboards in such a way that Rey wanted to hide. By a quick glance to the little girl, she could tell that she wanted to hide as well.

Snoke appeared around the corner, a grin carved into his face as his eyes lit on the girl beside Rey. His smile wavered though, when he saw that she wasn't the only one in the room.

"I see you're doing better." His eyes trained themselves on Rey's wrapped right hand before slithering up to her face. When he smiled again she could see the rotten front teeth bleed against his gums.

"Yes, I am." She nodded, trying to seem as if she were warming up to the idea of the family, but with the way she trembled she knew that she wasn't doing the best job.

 Leia seemingly materialized next to him within moments, her black eyes glinted within the evening light streaming through the massive windows, which blanketed the entire wall where the dinner table sat. 

She brushed past Snoke and cradled Rey's face within her hands, her eyes seeking something within Rey's before she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss onto her forehead.

 "God bless you child." The old woman whispered, smiling "and thank you for allowing God to show you the path to this family. I know it is strange, but I promise you once you get into the flow of things. Everything will be right as rain."

 _No, no it would not._ Rey grinned back, her cheeks burning from the effort as she fought the want to spit at the woman's face. 

Then the most absurd thing happened, and Rey flinched as the old woman pressed her hands into her stomach. Feeling her through the worn material of her dress. Her bones stiffened, and the muscles of her stomach flexed as if even her body instinctually didn't want to be within the same proximity as the nun.

"We gotta fatten you up." The woman of the house cooed, and the room went deathly silent. "I want grandchildren Rey, and you **_will_ **give me grandchildren." And as soon as her hands were there, they were gone; just like that and she was walking around Rey to place herself at the head of the table, just at the opposite end where Snoke had stationed himself.

The ghost touch of knotted fingertips ghosted her frame, and she had to physically keep herself from shaking as she stood planted in spot.

Her mind had shifted, and she was lost in the fantasy of chopping Leia's hands off and making the old hag choke on them. When she felt a small hand on her arm, pulling her to the present with childlike hands and rosy cheeks.

"We stand at our chair until the boys come in, and with Ben being the last one to come to dinner means you'll have to stand at yer chair til he comes." The little girl whispered as Leia and Snoke made small talk; out of the corner of her eyes she watched them filling their plates up to the brim with various amounts of food. They didn't begin to eat it though, and Rey decided that they all wait until everyone was there to say a prayer before beginning. 

Phasma let go of Rey's arm and walked around to stand at the chair just to the left of Snoke, her small form subconsciously recoiling from the way Snoke's eyes flitted over her small body. In just watching, Rey couldn't help herself but to recoil as well. She remained standing by the wall, not necessarily knowing where Ben was going to sit or where he normally sat.

Before too long, the front door opened to the sounds of Luke and Armitage, who walked in not even bothering to glance her way as they found their places at the table.

Armitage hurriedly placed himself just beside Phasma, and Rey didn't help but catch the way his finger's ghosted her arm as he sat down. 

Luke placed himself just beside Armitage, and began going on about having to fix something at the convenient store. All of it fell onto deaf ears as Rey waited, finally seeing Han walk in to place himself just at the other side of Snoke. He'd glanced her way with a gentle smile on his lips, before he'd filled his plate.

She assumed, at this point, that Ben was to sit by his mother, so she grabbed the middle seat just beside Han, and anchored herself there. 

At this time all went silent.

"I would like to think the lord for gracing our hunt today, and for gifting us with the fruit of his salvation. To thank our mighty lord for keeping our newest family member safe." His eyes flickered to Rey, and everything else he said after that made Rey's gut churn. She'd stopped listening as she grabbed onto the wood of her chair, her knuckles popping from the grip she'd set.

Oh how she wanted to run, to call them every filthy name in the book and then some, but she stood there waiting ever so patiently.

She had to pretend, didn't she? It was all apart of the game. 

She didn't have to wait long after the family began to eat before hearing the front door open and close. 

Foot steps hard and heavy against the floor boards.

 No one stopped eating, no one even glanced up from their plate as he made himself visible.

Their eyes met across the room, and the peculiar feeling within her stomach knotted up.

He paused, seemingly shocked that she was even looking at him, but then again she was shocked by the _sight_ of him.

It was the mask, the mask that hung on his face. It was more warped than it had been when she'd first seen it, but she couldn't just _un_ _see_ it now. She told herself to keep her eyes on him, just for the fact of his reaction had said it all.

Had no one ever waited on him before at the dinner table? Was it a big deal?

Her mind raced as she bit at her cheek, trying to keep her eyes trained on everything _but_ Poe's face.

And it _was_ Poe's face, even with the discoloration, and the nasty puss that seemingly ate at the lips and pockmarked it's way up the skin.

It made her want to cry, to beg and to scream. _Why?! Why them, why did you take them from me!? THEY WERE MY FAMILY!_ But nothing dared escape her lips as she waited patiently.

He stayed hesitant, and she liked that. She ate up the fact that she'd taken him by surprise. It fed her anger, it made her even smile.

He walked forward, stepping closer than he had to so he could brush up against her before pulling out his chair. He didn't sit down though, he only grabbed her plate, and began to fill it up with every assortment there was on the table.

She could have died from a heart attack with realization that he'd expected her to _eat_ all of it. 

Her eyes flicked up to the bright blue eyes of Phasma from across the table. She'd been watching and the look on her face was one of sorrow as she nibbled at the meat on the end of her fork.

Rey inhaled, trying to fill her chest up with as much air as possible, as she watched him set the plate back in front of her before standing there patiently.

He was waiting. Waiting for what she didn't necessarily know, as she stood glaring at the plate in front of her.

She stood there for a few moments before realizing he was expecting her to fill his plate.

A nerve triggered somewhere deep in the back of her skull; and quickly (possibly a little too quickly by the way his arms subconsciously flexed) she grabbed his plate and began to fill it. Doing the same thing he'd done for her but only adding more food. 

 Once she was done, he finally sat down within his seat, his body dwarfing the chair enough that his legs almost looked comically long as he positioned himself. She made way to sit down as well, and watched the man next to her like one would watch a rabid animal. He still had on his mask as they both sat there, too close for comfort, and everytime he fidgeted in his seat his knee would brush up against her thigh. 

With his body halfway turned to her, she was granted a better view of his face. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt like it was more of a subconscious thing on his part, because he had not looked her way since he'd began making her plate.

She didn't bother trying to eat as she sat silently, listening to the clinking of silver wear against old china plates. It was a meditative sound, a sound of a family having dinner together after a long day of work. It made her sick, just as the meat that sat glistening and wet with sauces did on the plate.

"Eat baby." Leia's voice rumbled softly, "You don't gotta be shy now honey, you married er."

The hair on the back of Rey's neck stood, and Ben moved once more. Bringing her attention to him solely. 

Although he had bathed earlier on that day, the white shirt he had on stuck to his body like second skin from pure sweat. The short sleeves of the shirt crinkled and rolled on his bicep from being (what she believed) to be too small, and every time he would fidget she would get a hint of male musk mixed with sweat and blood. She eyed the dirty brown blood stain that had seeped through the fabric of his shirt where the bullet wound had been.

She wondered, for a second, if it even hurt him and then hated herself for even questioning his feelings. 

He lifted his arms up, broad hands going to the back of the mask to untie the leather there, before he slowly pulled it off of his face. At this point, his head hung low enough that she couldn't see his face through all of the slick greasy strands of hair. The sound of the mask hitting the floor boards echoed throughout the room, and her eyes glanced up to see the ever going conversations between the people of the table. 

How were they not seeing this? Talking about this?

Their family member walked into the room with a fucking mask made of human skin, and all but just took it off. 

By looking at the thick head of hair framing his face, she brainstormed the idea of what it would have been like if he could have gotten help whenever he was younger. Of what it could have taken for someone to just ask "Are you okay?" 

Through her stay she knew that it would have never been possible, this was the new normal. It even dawned on her that she didn't even know enough about him to know his age.

She chewed on her tongue as she watched him out of the corner of her eye, as his heavy breathing made the hair framing his face move back and forth. He made a soft whining noise as he leaned further forward.

The sound of something dripping onto the table wood made her fully face him again. He was bleeding.

His hands went to his face then, brushing back the thick strands of hair to reveal a sweaty face, and (you guessed it) the harness she had seen through the window earlier. It stilled her, shocked her down to the very core with the fact that it wasn't just any harness. 

Dark leather clung to his face, biting into the pale flesh of his cheeks and jaw, and ended with a shiny thin blade that sat just within his mouth. Like a horse bit, but more malicious than that. It looked like some sort of rigged up torture device made just for the fact that every time the muscle in his lips or cheeks would twitch it would wedge itself deeper. 

That was why he had horrible scarring, that was why when she had seen him the one night she had awoken from her flashback/nightmare that his face was painstakingly ruined.

A soft whine wheezed from him as he huffed once more, and two broad hands lifted up to the leather that wrapped around his skull. He unfastened it from his face as if he had been doing it all of his life, and once he took the bit out of his mouth blood began to steadily pour down the sides of his mouth. Leaving tiny rivers of vermillion down his jaw and neck.

His throat bobbed before he set the harness next to this plate, the bloody metal clinked as it met the surface of the wood, and turned just enough to gage her reaction. He'd known she was watching, but then again how could one not watch the pure insanity of what was occurring before them.

She did her best to cool her expression but she could feel the way her face burned that it wasn't working in her favor. 

"You gotcha one hell of a chick there boy." Luke's voice snapped her out of the moment, causing her to stare back at her plate of food as if it were poisonous. "She done survived the wedding, survived that ole nasty injury of hers, and sure as hell made it outta that nasty crash. I'd say shes a keeper if shes lasted this long." A chuckle.

A deep rumble from next to her but no words as she listened to the fork scrape against the plate. 

"I like her." Phasma piped up.

"Its cause shes a girl like you." Armitage sneered.

"Nu-uh its cause shes sweet- like an angel. Unlike _you_." 

Both kids laughed before there was a coughing sound, and Snoke was speaking again.

"Are you not feeling well, child?" And it took a moment for Rey to realize he was talking to her, about her not touching the food on her plate.

She hesitantly picked up her fork and played with the shriveled sweet potato on her plate. "I don't believe I am ready for... the main entrée." 

"I see, and by any chance do you plan to ever eat it?" His words mocked her voice, tearing into her game of charades. 

"I'm not much of a...red meat kind of girl." She began, trying to cautiously maneuver herself into not getting murdered at the table. "It makes me sick. So I've always found myself gravitating towards fish." She wracked her brain to remember Rose's condition, of how her friend had become a Pescatarian because of medical reasons. It was odd, but she was suddenly thankful for it. "Because I get sick." She added again, fumbling over her words.

Jumping as a fork stabbed at the meat on her plate. Ben simply plucked it from her plate and heaped it onto his before shuffling it into his mouth like a starving man.

"Oh wow, I think Id die if I couldn't eat like a normal person." Armitage piped up before making a point to chew at the meat on the fork. 

It was strange, so strange that she found herself pushing away from the table.

"May I be excused?" She suddenly asked, her head spinning. She'd be hungry, but she would deal with it later. For now she had to focus on getting as far as she could, and the only place she could think of was the room. 

She had asked for permission in hopes that it would earn a little notch in the board of respect, and from the coo of Leia's voice she assumed that it had.

 

 

 

She had curled up into the flesh of the bed, wrapping up as much as she could without dying of heat, trying to hide underneath the covers like a lizard in sand. 

She had tried to force herself to fall asleep, to maybe escape, but she had ended up putting her back to the door. She watched the darkness fill in through the window and shroud the entire room until she couldn't see anything.

In the city there had always been light, a light of some kind, but here- in the middle of nowhere- there is no light. The night eats you whole, consumes you, and you're left ravaged in it's wake, only to wait suffering until the peak of the morning.

A noise breaks her from her veil of falling asleep, one she had not realized until hearing the knob of the door turn.

The door opened, shut.

Rey's heart thundered within her chest as she listened to the moving of fabric, of bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors. 

She was so afraid, lying there, knowing that if she moved it would signify that she was there. But he knew she was there, and maybe that was why he was pacing. Maybe that was why he was hesitating before coming to the bed.

_Good._

"Ben?" Her voice is soft, a gentle sigh within the darkness, and it sounds nothing like the heart within her chest. Her mind flashes to the blood on his jaw, of how he didn't bother wiping it away before eating. 

The pacing stops, and there is complete silence once more.

It is the silence that makes her fear, it makes her know something is wrong.

And before she knows it, she is being dragged by massive hands, her hands clawing at the bedsheets as if they could maybe possibly save her life. But they cant. Nothing can save her now, nothing but herself and even that she has her doubts in.

A scream tears from her lips as her back hits the floor, cracking on impact and knocking the breath from her, and then she is pinned down by a massive weight.

"Ben, Ben- " Her voice cracks as she tries to inhale and speak at the same time, her hands are pushing against muscle, and she is wedged into the floor at a painful degree. Her upper back cracks against the strain, as she realizes her lower half is lifted off of the ground. "Ben _please_."

A deep rumble vibrates through her, and she shivers at the feeling.

Her hands come from the ground, and her fingertips search for his face within the darkness. It is hard to find, but she does. The fingertips of her good hand lingers at the swell of his lips, and caresses the jaw.

He is unbearably close, and her heart practically aches from the mere fact that it is beating so hard.

He had not moved from the position above her, and she wishes that she had some form of light so she could see his face. 

"You s-s-saved me." A low guttural voice seeps into the darkness, his voice, and it is as deep as the ocean. It terrifies her.

"But- but that doesn't mean. This." She speaks quickly, her voice is a rush. "you're hurting _me_."

The pressure on her back disappears as he suddenly lets her go, and jerks away.

Hips snapping against the hardwood of the floor with a painfully loud crack, she finds that she cant hold back the tears any more. But all she ever does is fucking cry, she needs to stop crying, she needs to gain her wits and stop being the victim.

"You, you didn't hurt me." Her voice fumbles. "I'm just scared. You know? You must know?"

 She blinks within the darkness, unsure where he had disappeared to before he his voice rumbles, it sounds like thunder from far away.

"But you don't scare me...I..." Her mind whirrs as she quickly speaks, trying to say something before he has a chance to, because he wont understand. He cant understand. He's from a different world, and his world filled with sharp things is nothing compared to hers. "I've never been married before, and I've never met a family as...special as yours. I don't think I fit well, like any of this suits me. Like i'll be good enough." She prays that it doesn't come off as a sign that he should kill her. But she finds it easier, suddenly, to be within the darkness than to face him. 

Maybe he finds it easier too, because when he speaks next it is not ridiculed with a stutter. It is slow and steady. "You are perfect."

And it does things to her heart. It makes the orphan within her beam, and it makes her feel less alone. It terrifies her more than anything has yet. 

"Oh no." She ensues, her voice so feather light, but the tears continue to roll. "I'm really not. I don't, I don't know why you didn't just kill me."

"Why do y-y-you say th-thu-thu-that?" He sounds closer, but there is nothing else to signify that he is moving.

"Because I'm nothing." Her voice feels strange, and it is raw. Thick with more tears and choked up on snot. "I'm nothing, I came from nothing...a-and I thought I could escape in the city. Become this college graduate, get a nice job, have a nice house, a family. But it's all lies, that's not who I am, and it'll never patch up this feeling of..." She hesitates, trying not to reveal to much of her soul within the darkness. "all I'm ever going to be is a lonely little orphan. A nobody."

"Not to me." and his voice is so clear, a deep rumble that sounds so unlike the voice from seconds before. It is slow to come to her, but it is steady. 

It makes a laugh form at the back of her throat. _You should have killed me that day_. She wants to say, but she knows he will find out sooner or later. When they all regret it the moment she has their own blades pointed at their throats. 

She feels empty, but the anger fluctuates deep in her. Marking up her soul, patching every crack and splinter with a burning desire. She wants to live, and the soft rumble of his voice makes her realize that. 

She pulls herself to her feet, feeling the wear and tear of the day, and finds her way to the bed within the darkness. She knows he wont do anything tonight, she can feel it in the way the silence breathes around her, and in the way shes become too tired to even care. And as soon as her skin feels the worn material of the blankets she falls asleep. 

 

 

 

  _Not to me._

 

 

 

 

 

Fingertips kiss the flesh conjunction of neck and shoulder. The softest of inhales, and she is too asleep to really counter that this is anything other than a dream. 

"Forgive me angel." The voice of the darkness speaks, it shutters like wind against her skin. "For I should have found you sooner."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Attempted rape, self harm.

 

 There's a soft prodding on her arm, and she grumbles within her sleep.

Its probably the old tabby pawing at her to get up and feed him. She should probably name the thing if she's thinking about keeping him. But nothing comes to mind, nothing fits him.

 _Kylo._ The name brushes her dream, and she rolls in her sleep. Yeah, Kylo sounds like a good name. Spunky enough, and short. 

The prodding continues, its a poking sensation, but its not furry and its not talons. It all trickles in as she jerks up, almost head butting the monstrosity of a man in her bed. 

He's coiled up on himself, more so on the floor than the bed, but his arms rest on the edge and dangle close to the skin of her arms. He jerks back though, as if stung, as if he wasn't the one who was being held as a prisoner. 

Ben's eyes are wide, and they are the first thing she sees as she tries to compose herself by pulling her knees to her chest. 

"Get." He begins, his jaw jerking and his mouth rolling.  "Ready." He says it slowly, and she knows its because it helps with the stutter. She eyes him for a few minutes though, his face bruised badly and puffs up in irritation in places along his jaw. 

He looks rough, but she tells herself she doesn't care. 

"But why?" She grumbles, eyes following the darkness to the window which says its way too early to be up. Its still dark outside, and there isn't even a hint that morning is approaching. 

"F-fishing." He responds, and he pulls himself to his feet before placing a pair of ratty jeans, a belt, and a tank top on the bed. She eyes the clothes, noticing that there's light in the room from a candle on the dresser. 

Her mind is slow to process, and maybe that's because she's still asleep. But she understands after a few minutes of staring dumbfounded at the clothes. 

They're fishing for her, because she can't eat human. Ah yeah, that's right. 

"I thought I wasn't suppose to wear anything other than dresses." She voices, irritated. She looks up at him as he fidgets. His fingers twitching by his sides in an odd way. 

He cocks his head, and swallows loudly. "D-dont want...to get...it dirty." His eyes flicker from her face and to the dress that is twisted up around her from sleep. It would have been embarrassing but she finds herself more angry than anything, but swallows it back. 

The plan was to get Ben on her side. Stick to the plan. 

"Oh." She says, stupidly. Eyeing the clothes as if they'd somehow vanish from their spot, and tries to formulate something other than the fact that Ben is just watching her. "Well...I...I'll get dressed." 

Shes hoping that he moves to go away, but he doesn't. He stands there watching her, his eyes wide, his nostrils flared. His hands keep opening and closing as if to restrain himself, but shes too tired to really focus on anything other than the fact that its too fucking early.

So she fumbles from the clutches of the covers, and stands up on wobbly legs. A hand comes and grasps her shoulder, steadying her weak body, before she can really grasp that hes touching her. The heat seeps in through the fabric and eats away at her, both lulling her into a sense of comfort and scaring her at the same time. She doesn't say anything, just leans into it, hoping that its just her subconscious trying to remain stable enough to go along with the plan; and not the fact that the loneliness buried deep into the tresses of her soul is showing. 

 "You don't have to be anywhere today?" Her voice whispers into the darkness, and somehow she's managed to not look up at him; she only looks at the way his chest expands and shifts underneath the fabric of a worn white shirt.

 A hand materializes underneath her jaw, and cups her face with such softness that she thinks its all a dream. The hand pulls her to finally look up into the darkness, the true darkness. "No." His response is a rumble, more animal in the way it rolls from his chest and not from the tongue.  "Just wi-with you."

 _Oh._ Her mind whirs, and anger simmers just below the surface. Because its so painfully obvious, the way he is trying to make her feel comfortable, the way he makes it seem like he cares. It makes her skin prickle in gooseflesh. It makes her wonder why he doesn't try and push the intimacy, but shes too ashamed in herself by being curious to begin with. 

They stand there for a few minutes, watching each other, before he nods slowly. The muscle in his jaw jumping underneath skin. "Downstairs." He mutters, and he is gone. Walking away, back into the shadows from where he was born. 

 

 

 

 

Its almost comical, her wearing his clothes, as she eases down the staircase on bare feet. The floor boards creak softly, there is no other sounds within the house, and the sick sense of being watched tingles at the back of her neck. 

Every five minutes or so her fingers come up to shift the tank top just right, because it is too big and she has nothing else to shield her modesty. 

She comes to the bottom of the staircase and looks onwards; the door is wide open, and it is beckoning her. Ben is no where in sight, but she knows its more than likely a test. If she runs for it, she doesn't go fishing. She doesn't get to have what little freedom she obviously craves for.  So she takes a hesitant step and walks slowly to the door, but doesn't cross over the threshold. No, Rey waits.

The house shifts, alive, behind her. The floor boards creak in agony, but it only sounds like the wind outside; it only sounds like a house settling. 

"Ready?" She asks lightly, her heart is awake within her chest as it beats rapidly. The need to run thrums through her on instinct, but she tightens it down. Its been a long time since she's had to survive, and this is no different. She just needs to get back into the game, back into the surviving. She waits for a few more minutes, but there is silence and it is unbearable. 

"Be-" She begins, but the feeling of being snatched rips the sound from her throat. Ben grabs her, nails sinking into skin, and suddenly she is being pulled into the house and towards the darkness. She doesn't scream, not wanting to wake anyone in the house up, and hating herself for giving a fuck. She does fight, pulling ever so slightly against the strong hold, but it doesn't feel right. No, actually it feels wrong. 

The way his hands chip away at her flesh, the way her body finds the musky floorboards and her face burns at the contact. 

"I've been waiting for  _you."_ A deep snarl rumbles at her ear, and she's too shocked to fight back. Actually, she's been in shock the entire time. Ben would never do this, not right here. They were suppose to go fishing bu- Luke. Luke, Luke, Luke **_Luke_**. 

 The recognition chokes a soft cry from her lips. He'd been waiting for her, waiting down in the darkness for his chance. Her muscles lock up with terror and she instantly hates herself for not realizing right away. The hands grasping at her arms behind her dig into the flesh, as a soft breathy chuckle echoes above her. The weight that had settled on her as soon as she had been shoved into the floorboards, feels like a burden. 

"Luke." Her voice chokes, and her body comes to life. Hes old, she can fight him off, she can keep herself sane just long enough, but she cant. Luke, albeit old, is strong. 

"Shut up you fucking whore." The gravel in his voice rumbles against her ear as his body presses into hers to try and stifle her fighting. Its a soundless fight, and one she will lose, but no one can say she didn't try. "I had warned Leia, told 'er that you were just another whore comin' in off the streets. That you wouldn't bring any good to this household, and you aint even good enough for breedin'."

The house around them shifts, the air changing into something so alive and tense, that she chokes on it as she cries. It's the first loud sound that escapes her lips; it's loud enough to invite Luke's dirty bony fingers into her mouth to quiet her down. Her taste buds burn from the acidic taste of his fingertips, and she chokes once again.

"Shhh." His breath reeks as he speaks against the side of her face, his tongue lapping at the tears that had begun to stream down her cheeks. "I been watchin' you girl, watchin' how you make that boy act. And I think either you got a good nice little pussy, or you aint give it up yet, and ole Kylo is just too chicken shit to take it from ya." The feeling of her belt being clawed at makes her wriggle with the need to get away, but his upper body is pushing her down in a way that its hard to do anything but struggle in vain. 

"Please don't do this." She moans in agony, the nails of his fingertips scratching at the back of her throat, her words become a muddled mess of noise within the darkness. 

"So I thought, maybe I ought to see for myself. I already grew tired of-" The weight on her back vanishes as does the fingers down her throat. She retches against the floorboards, and her stomach hurts from the emptiness of not eating yesterday's meal.

There is a whining sound, and she rolls onto her back to take in the spectra. Ben trembles, his eyes shinning with black rage, as he stares at the old man within his grasp. There is no sound coming from Luke, the only thing that she can tell within the darkness, is that his head is bent at a wrong angle.

Ben cradles him in a bear hug, and she can see where that could have crushed the man to death. But she isn't sure as she trembles on the floor. Another cry escapes Ben, and the light of the moon coming from the kitchen windows tells her where she is. 

"Ben?" She pulls herself up, shaking, as she blinks back tears. Ben stands forlorn, slumped against the wall of the kitchen, and clutches at the old man. Hair covers his face, but it doesn't hide the subtle shake of his shoulders, and the twitching of the old man whose body is beginning to settle into death. It's a sickening look, the front of Luke's pants are  unbuttoned, with Ben unraveling within the darkness from the fact that he'd just killed one of his family members. 

The thoughts turn sour in her mouth, and she retches again from the remnants of the taste of Luke's fingertips. She tries to pull herself together quickly though, and climbs her way to her feet. "Ben, we need to...to leave. Go fishing, remember?" She doesn't know what to say as she whispers, all she knows is that they need to leave before Leia comes down and finds her brother dead. 

Ben nods, slowly, like a child being scorned. With a quick gesture he zips up the man's pants, and pulls Luke onto one of his shoulders like he is nothing. His feet are incredibly silent against the floorboards as he leaves the kitchen, and she trails behind.

He'd just killed one of his family members for her. One of his _own._

He walks out of the front door and doesn't look back as he treads on the porch and down the stairs. She follows quickly, closing the door behind them after checking for prying eyes. The moon is high still, and she knows its still a few hours before everyone wakes up and begins their day. It also makes the entire situation with Luke worse. He'd been waiting, but he said he'd been waiting for her; and she knew better than to think that it was just this night. It was every night. Luke had waited _every night_ for her to make the mistake, so he could close in like a bloodhound. 

 

 

 

The forest feels more like home, and with each step she wishes she had the balls to flee. But he had saved her, and something about that makes the little girl in her beam with trust. 

He'd killed one of his own, for  _her._ She knew, she knew she shouldn't let it get to her head, but ache in her chest tells her she's not as alone as she thinks.  She follows him through the darkness, having lost sight of any direction, as the white of his shirt glows from the light of the moon. It is the beacon that lights her way, and she promises herself that later it will all be worth it. Trusting him, using him and gaining his affection, will be worth it. 

Trees dance wickedly around them, and the chorus of crickets chime loudly; unbothered by the two outsiders. Ben remains quiet, and walks stiffly; but seems unbothered by the weight on his shoulders. Rey tries not to look at the way Luke's face that has gone pale and bloody. No she looks anywhere but, as they walk for what seems like miles. 

"Wait h-he-here." Ben announces, it is soft, but it is meant for her. So she stops, now noticing the shed that she had seen the day before. There is a candle lit by the window sill, and it radiates just enough light. It was probably like that so they could swing by and get the fishing supplies, that or he had intended to come by the shed. Either way she stands there and watches the shadows within the shed as they stretch and dance. 

 

 

  _Shadows dance and stretch within the room from the lone candle that drips white wax onto the wooden alter. It is very late into the evening, and no one else is within the church. Pastor John doesn't even know she has snuck out of her room to be here. The church is usually open late into the night anyways, until one of the sisters decides to close up shop when she finishes her studies. Either way it is too late for a child to be up alone, but little Rey needed comfort and the church often embraced her when no one else could._

_Especially within the dead of night where demons lingered at the edges._

_"You were sent here by god, hear me?" A musical voice echoes as the church doors swing open, and Rey quickly scampers from her spot to hide within the nearby shadows. She is small enough, and she is good at hiding. "Sent here to do god's work. Isn't that right?"" The woman is beautiful, Rey thinks, as she watches her walk the aisle. She is tall and lean, and her hair falls around her shoulders with gentle brown waves. She looks like an angel as she smiles ahead towards the lit candle. She seems to be speaking to herself until Rey catches a glimpse of a boy who lingers in step just behind the woman._

_He is quiet, and at first he is too far away for her to catch a good glimpse._

_They near and find seating at the front. The woman, in her elegant white dress sits down, and pats the velvet seat next to her as an invitation to the little boy who stands there._

_He is much closer now, and she can see the way he trembles. He is dressed in a little black suit, and as he turns and sits beside her, Rey can tell that there is a nasty red stain at the collar of his shirt. She thinks nothing of it as she watches his long face. He sits still, unlike any child she has seen come into this church, and he stares ahead at the candle with fixed attention. He is young, but looks a little older than she. He is just a scrawny thing with long legs and arms._

_"What you did today was a true blessing." The woman's voice carries within the silence of the church, and Rey wishes she were closer to be able to commit the two strangers to memory. She's always been good with faces, and especially good at remembering. That is why she hid so well, so she could take in all of the different people and spark up little stories about each and everyone._

_What were their stories? She wondered._

_"I don't think it was god mama." The little boy's voice floats, hitting something in the little girl. She thinks its the way the words rolled from his lips, so clean and precise, like a cunning snake. As soon as he says it, his face cracks to the side, and his mother stands angrily._

_A sharp inhale echoes from Rey, but the woman doesn't seem to notice. The boy, with black hair in soft curls around his head, hones in on the shadows where she hides. His face is red from being slapped, and his eyes darken._

_"Don't you ever talk about our lord like that. It was most definitely **God**." The woman trembles, but her own face is calm. She sits back down, and the boy continues to look into Rey's direction. It makes her skin prickle, because if she were any closer she would be sure that he was staring straight into her soul. "Didn't I just tell you that you were here to do his work? Baby? Of course you feel like he isn't listening, when you're meant to carry this darkness."_

_"Then why does it hurt?" The boy speaks up, finally breaking his attention from her to look back at the candle dancing. "Like my soul is being ripped apart." The last part comes in a hushed whisper._

_"Because the pain..." The woman trails off, thinking. "I don't know sweetie, I wish I did...but I think I know a way to stop it. Or at least help lessen the weight of it all."_

_"Why are we here?" He asks, his jaw rolling._

_"It's the closest church baby, its the best I can do. I thought it would help, with everything that has happened. Is it helping?"_

_The boy gets up from his seat and walks over to the candle, his footsteps are light, and the closer he comes to Rey's hiding place in the corner behind one of the pillars. The more she can see the dark circles underneath his eyes, and the matted hair clinging to his face. He looks to have gone through an accident, but she doesn't know if it would be a good idea to spoil her hiding to find out anything else._

_The candle dances upon it's wick as he nears it, and falls onto his knees. Something spills from his lips in another language, it is deep and unsettling, and it makes her skin crawl as she watches his left hand come out and linger just above the flame._

_Rey watches with wide eyes as the smell of something being burnt wafts in her direction. Small droplets of blood trickle down his palm, and he closes his eyes. "Please forgive me." His voice breathes, and tears shine in his eyes. "Please give me a sign, a gift, or anything to show that you are there...that you are watching. That what my mother says is true."_

_There is a sound far off in the church that echoes, and the boy snaps away from the candle. His fist closing quickly as he backs up and shoots his mother a look. She stands up quickly, hands smoothing at her dress as she smiles._

_"Time to go. You feel better?" Her voice is so soothing and lovely, and Rey feels so confused._

_The boy nods. "Much better." and begins to follow his mother down the aisle._

_They are at the door when she decides to move as well, rushing towards the candle to inspect it, also out of fear that one of the sisters were to find her. As she grasps at the candle and blows it out, she ignores the red droplets of blood, and shoots a look towards the door. Her body seizes up with fear as she locks eyes with the boy from across the room._

_She is too far to tell his expression, but something tells her that he is smiling._

 

 A hand reaches out to her and she finds herself desperately committing the lines of his palm to detail. No burn marks, no, that was a different boy. Had to be. That was just some stupid flashback, or a nightmare. The boy had elaborate speech and the mother looked nothing like Leia herself. 

She swallowed back the flashback and glanced up to find that the morning had begun to unravel. How long had she been waiting? When did she sit down against the shed? Where was Luke?

She grabs Ben's hand and allows him to help her to her feet. "I wont say anything, about this morning."

He only nods and a look filters through his eyes. So she shuts up. They'll go fishing, and it'll be like nothing happened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short and sweet for you guys to show that I haven't given up yet. Thanks for the kudos and the comments!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pay no mind to what other voices say  
> They don't care about you  
> Like I do, Like I do  
> Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils  
> See they don't give a fuck about you, Like I do"
> 
> \- "Pet"- A Perfect Circle

 

Early morning light trickles in through the knotted trees that stretch tall and thin, eaten up by green moss and dampened with the pungent smell of dead leaves and murky water. She finds herself standing near a decent sized lake that stretches throughout the trees and blends in with the cypress roots that claw out of the earth like teeth. The bugs are horrendous, and her skin crawls with the need to be scratched; but she doesn't move much as she stares at the water. 

Ben had carried the fishing poles; which were very old and rusted. She had carried the bucket; not because he wanted her to, but because she insisted. Anything to busy her brain from the nightmare of the morning; that and the overwhelming realization of having witnessed first hand how Ben was likely to rid of a family member over her. What did it mean? How did she even feel? He doesn't even know her, let alone having been around her long enough to care that much.

She did save him though. Maybe it was pay back.

She side glanced to find him setting up a spot, ripping out a clearing by cleaning up branches and settling against an old cypress after checking mindfully for snakes. He looked tired, but overall his mind was set onto the task; onto keeping her safe for whatever reason. 

He mindfully pulled his hair back into a messy knot, and swiped at his forehead. The heat of the day had settled in and she could see it in the way sweat accumulated on his face, and the way his shirt melted against his skin.

"Thank you." She mumbles, lingering nearby but not close enough. She tries to look everywhere else, and its not hard to see that they are in the middle of nowhere. She could cry, scream, and no one would hear her. Then again no one really heard her; of all the times she begged for someone to save her, prayed to find someone to keep her safe from the world. 

 She thinks of the little boy in her vision, and wonders if he ever found comfort. If he ever found peace in his suffering. 

She feels him take the bucket from her and fill it up with water before placing it nearby, he doesn't say anything but just hums softly. Its soothing, in a way, and it calms her enough to place herself near him as she watches him catch something from the innards of a tree. Its a bug of sorts, one she doesn't even know, and he places it on the hook and casts the line out. He doesn't move to fix up the other pole as he sits down near the tree and leans on it.

Everything becomes silent as the birds chitter away in treetops. 

"Catching b-bait." He rumbles, and her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. She doesn't quite understand what he is doing, but she keeps quiet and watches anyways. There is nothing else to do, no phone or internet, no book. Just Rey and Ben sitting by a water's edge. 

The silence stretches, wavering and blending in with the beauty of the forest around them as everything begins to wake up more. Its still so early that shadows of the night linger at the edges, and the lingering of mist spills against the water's edge. Everything is beautiful and blue toned, and it makes her itch to draw. Something she hasnt done in a long time. 

The silence use to scare her, it was why she'd always clung to the busy life of the city. Sounds would keep her from thinking, the noise of everyday life would keep the demons of her past at bay. She was someone new in the world of chaos, she wasn't Rey, she was just a woman. A nobody amongst a world of other nobodies clinging to the fact that someday things will get better. 

Now, she couldn't imagine herself in the city, although it had not been long at all since she'd left. Still there was some sort of madness to it all, the realization that she'd never be the same if she were to go back; if she could ever go back. She was marked, damaged, strung up in ways that revealed more of her true self than she'd ever imagined.

She felt so young as she watched the birds chirp and whistle, flying and fluttering back and forth within the limbs, and she knew that the real Rey would have hated the city. The real Rey would have had nothing more to do than sit at the water's edge and gaze with longing at the birds, wondering what it would be like to fly. 

The sound of the gears grunting, in the mechanism of the pole as Ben reeled, brings her back to the moment and makes her look over as a decent sized fish fights the line. It's pulled from it's safety. The fish, glistening with alien beauty, looks much smaller in Ben's hands than it did as it was being pulled up. He grabs it with such ease and gracefulness, his fingertips gliding down the fins as he works the hook out of it's mouth. Any sign as to acknowledging her watching is lost, as he frees the fish of the hook, and holds it in his hand.

"Always th-thank the" He speaks softly as the fish wriggles "creatures. I-if it weren't fo-for them, we would n-not be here." His words chip away at her soul as she watches him produce a knife from his pocket and goes about cutting up the fish. She watches, her eyes are wide, as he cuts up the fish in little sections and takes the other pole (her fishing pole) and puts a sizable chunk on the hook, and hands it to her. She doesn't understand, not when its coming from the man who butchers people.

He finds her watching him and something like a smile teases at the corner's of his mouth. She blinks and it seems more like its the muscles in his cheeks jumping after being brutally mutilated from his self torture. None the less, he eyes her and the pole, and swallows loudly. "n-no bait. Had to Improvise. Animal's sh-should never suffer, so it is always best t-to be th-thankful. Especially if th-they keep you alive." The stutter becomes less and less dominant the more he speaks, and she can see it in the way he sits that he has become much calmer. 

"Then why do you murder?" She speaks, eyeing him, waiting for him to blow up with anger, when he just glances at the water and then to the dead fish within his hands. 

"People are cruel. Most do not care f-for the su-suffering o-of others. Most do not th-thank animals." He picks up a piece of fish and spears it onto the hook before casting it out, and she decides to do the same. Not exactly knowing what to say, and knowing that its best to avoid the conversation.

So they both become silent once more and relish in the quiet of the world. Just two beasts sitting at the water's edge. He never answered her question, but then again what could she have expected from someone who had been born and raised into the strange life of occultism and cannibalism. 

 

 

The morning commences; growing warmer in their own personal sauna of bugs, mud and silence. It is the most peace she has ever experienced, and the task of catching the fish becomes fun although it wears at her patience. 

Hours pass before she speaks, a thought that has possessed her for some time. The quiet urges her curiosity as she glances over at him to find him watching her intently. 

"How old are you?" She leans back against the other cypress tree that cages them both in, and feels the warmth of it through her back. 

"Thirty-one." He watches her back although the end of his pole bends ever so slightly. A nibble more than likely, but it goes unnoticed either way. He leans against the tree comfortably, his body facing her ever so slightly, as his legs bend at the knees and his feet root themselves on the ground. His answer does not surprise her, and neither does his silence. 

"I'm twenty-two."  And she doesn't know why she tells him this, or why she cares to know that one little detail about him. She tells herself its because they're married, and she just wants to know the details. But she must be stupid, she knows because the words that come out of her mouth make her heart seize up. "Does it hurt? Your face? I mean, oh man I'm sorry, I'm just...have you taken care of the wounds so they wont get infected?"

His eyes flicker to the bandage on her hand and lingers there before he nods.

She just wishes she knew what he was agreeing to. 

 Instead she looks down at her bandaged hand, its sore and it hurts, but it is much better than it was. Numb, but better. 

 

 

 

It is around mid-day when he pulls himself up, after hearing the growl of her stomach.

The debris of moss and leaves cling to his ratty clothes, and he makes no move to brush it off as he fixes the pole in his hands. 

"Did we catch enough for the week?" She asks nonchalantly, feeling odd for talking so much; for finding comfort with the silence and her captor. Its a heavy feeling that rests upon her heart as she manages to find her way to her feet and begins to real the line in.

Warmth engulfs her entire backside as arms wrap around her, and take the pole from her fingertips. Casually he begins helping her by caging her in at the same time. "For now." His voice rumbles through his chest and vibrates through her. It wasn't like she needed help with the pole, and she seizes up with fear. 

The noise of the bird's chatter suddenly halts, ceasing to such abrupt silence, that she feels the man behind her lock up with anticipation as he brings the pole in and steps away from their weird embrace.

A high tune lulls through the atmosphere, it is distant, a whistle of an old tune long forgotten. It is something that she knows, subconsciously, but doesn't know how she knows it. It drawls on, a quick throaty version of what was suppose to be a lullaby. 

Ben instantly replies, cutting the whistling off with a different tune, and gives her a sharp look before disappearing into the foliage of the trees. 

 

* * *

 

 

**_Young Boy_ **

 

 

_Candle light. He remembers the candle light caressing the smooth angles of the angel's face. She had appeared, as he expected, after they had left the altar._

_Wide eyes, brilliantly wide, like a little doe caught in headlights. She'd taken his blood by flame, for it was her flame, he knew it to be her flame the moment he was aware of her hiding._

_She had been there listening to his prayers, relaying them to god just as expected. But she was earth bound, broken, he knew because the material of her skin- as soft as it looked- was real. She'd been damned, meant to perish on earth for disobeying. A fallen angel, but an angel no less._

_Mother always said Satan had been an angel before he'd fallen, before he took root within his soul and fed on the ever-growing torment._

_Ah, the Fallen Angel That Was His Angel, was here for the soul purpose of finding him. For what? He did not know, but she was his. She was his and that was all that mattered._

 

_He could not forgive the sight which haunted him every second; the sight of frail bones, of candle light and the inky darkness of blood staining the pale flesh of the candle wick. A permanent etch of signing his soul away to a young frail girl in the midnight hours of a church._

_It drove him mad, eating into his mind like a disease, and drove him to take a long walk on the fifth week of having seen her last. This was the only time he could see her for a long time to come. Mother had decided to move South, disappear into the country side._

_"You killed a man, I don't know what else you want me to say." She had hissed, spitting into his face. "You're so pathetic, just like the beast of a father that sired your rotten ass."_

_"But we shouldn't move, not yet." He had replied, picking lazily at the dirt underneath his fingernails._

_"We are leaving, I don't give a damn what you say." Her voice had dripped with menace, pulling into the game she had loved to play. The game of madness. "I should have killed you when I had a chance, should have gone to a doctor-"_

_"But you told me god spoke to you, told you that I was meant for greatness." Her words could never hurt him, not when he had a purpose, not when emptiness hollowed him from the inside out._

_"He did not tell me that you were a MONSTER." Tears welled into her eyes, and the cut of her palm against his cheek pulsed through him. "A fucking monster."_

_"We can leave tomorrow then." He sat there, feeling the pain that seeped through the flesh of his cheek, rattling the bones of his teeth and echoing into the beginning stages of a headache. She was right to hit him, to call him names, to swear in his presence. He was meant to take it, he was meant to feed on the evil of others. "Just give me until morning." Pulling himself from his chair he looked up into the eyes of the woman that had birthed him, and cupped her face with both of his hands._

_"I love you mother, but you allow the devil to reside in you. Do not blame another human being when it is you who is becoming an empty husk. I do not control you, but if God wills it- I can take you away." They lock eyes for a moment, and he only sees his reflection. A weathered kid, a walking husk._

 

_For every devil deserves an angel. He feels it, like a calling, through his bones and in the pulsating of the organ in his chest. Mother had always spoken of love coming from the heart, but in the dreary moments of the inbetween he fails to see how._

 

_The church is silent, sitting still on the corner within the darkness; it looks more abandoned at the midnight hour than it does during the day. As he creeps along silently, bare feet drifting and cracked against the small paved road, he eyes the building like it is nothing but a prison. Holding the one he seeks like a prisoner._

_Its too late into the night to really depend on the girl being awake, but he does anyways. Its a feeling deep in his gut, like being pulled along by a string of fate; led by God and moonlight._

_Much to his luck she is there, humming and soft within the darkness. There is no candle, nothing but the silvery contrast of the moon against the tan flesh of her cheeks. His pulse quickens for the first time in his life, and he stops for a moment to counteract what is happening to him._

_Its a burning sensation, deep in the concave of his chest, like there is not enough air to breathe. It **aches.** And as he settles into the darkness he claws at the button up; pawing at his chest to maybe calm his heart that has begun to beat so loudly the noise fills his ears. _

_"Oh lord. I know I shouldn't  be up so late, and I do not want you to think I am an ungrateful child." Her voice peeps in the darkness, and he slowly slips down the aisle; hiding every so often behind a row of seats._

_"I am very grateful for my staying here, but My Lord. Am I always meant to be alone? Will I never have a family who... loves me? For me?" She leans against the podium in a off grey gown, her hair trailing down in soft waves along her back and he catches himself before he trips._

_Its foolish, so very foolish that such a creature could leave him so... clumsy. But he knows the little girl he sees embraced in moonlight, and moonlight alone; is his future wife. He can feel the way she huffs, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from calling to her._

_Why must an angel cry? But he understood. The divine are always watching and guiding, and yet there is no one for them to lean onto in the end._

_Copper fills his mouth, and he swallows loudly. She does not move, does not hear him through her crying; and he resorts to gripping the nearest seat, nails clipping into the flesh of the wood, to keep from going to her. Protecting her from the world._

_She just sits, sniffling into the night, head resting against the wood of the podium. He wants to see her face, renew the memory from weeks ago, but he would have to get close. It would scare her, he would scare her as he scares everyone._

_He was never meant for love, but God shows mercy. And as he watches the little girl he knows that she must go through the rough edges of life before she finds her home with him; that they_ _are destined to find one another again.  He knows, because it is true._

_They sit like that for some time; her watching the moonlight through the stained glass, and him watching her. It almost feels like a dream, and the more he watchs her the more he can feel himself lull into a sense of calmness. Its an odd sort of peace that he's not use to, so he basks in it. Lets it pull him under to the thought of living in a world where he no longer carries the trifling task of God's work. Of what it could be like to taste happiness, to be normal..._

_At one point sleep overcomes him, he knows this because he starts to a lovely sound, the sound of humming of an unfamiliar tune._

 

* * *

 

  ** _Rey_**

 "Have you seen Luke?" Armitage's eyes are wild and bright. He comes out of the foliage so quickly that it startles her. He's rushing towards her, but gets snatched back the scruff of his dirty shirt. 

With the way Ben's eyes glisten in the afternoon, black against the sweat and perspiration of his face, he looks like he could snap the little boy's neck and dump him in the pond. 

"Im just trying to ask her a question Kylo." The boy growls, pulling free from the man's grasp before he gains more ground. Hes seemingly more aware of Ben, and walks instead of rushes. "I havent seen him all morning, he was suppose to open up shop-" 

"I haven't seen him,  I've been with B- Kylo all morning." She stands, clutching at her rusty fishing pole, willing herself not to shake because of the way the family is; they are sharks that are liable to catch onto any little detail. "You can ask him." She watched the green in Armitage's eyes shimmer, his face is finally looking more clean than its looked in weeks, but it doesn't  take away from the look of pure distrust. 

"'S that true bubba?" the little boy turns quickly,  swiveling on his heel to glare up at Ben, who she finds staring at her. The darkness of his eyes, everything, it freezes her up because it could make her or break her. If they found out Ben had to kill a member of the family... they would lose their minds. They would have her gutted, because it would be all her fault. 

"Shes been with me." His voice, smooth and level. Like black velvet, and it sounds nothing like the man from minutes ago. She shivers although shes pretty sure shes sweating from every orface of her body. The sudden mood change makes Armitage flinch, almost as if he's been smacked. 

"M-m mama said to get back home as soon as ya can, Rey needs to eat for the baby." The redhead offers a shy glance over his shoulder at her and mutters apologies before hes disappearing back into the dense thicket of trees. 

 

"Baby?" Her voice wavers and she accidentally drops the pole. She wasn't  ready for it to be acknowledged so openly, let alone so soon. With her hand still healing and- and.

She looks up from her disassociating to find a stranger peering at her from the eyes of her savior. Captor, she reminds herself. Captor. He says nothing,  picks up her rusty pole along with the full bucket of fish, and begins to walk back. 

 

 

 

"I was hopin' yall would bring in some fish. I know the meat would prolly get you sick so I only cooked you some potatoes and some veggies." The little girl calls from the kitchen as Rey walks through the front door. Ben stayed back, going to clean the fish and put up the gear. He wouldnt let her help, so she opted to walk back to the house. 

She rounds the corner and peers at the soft grey dress that hangs from the little girl. Its covered with wet finger prints from her absentmindedly drying her wet hands. The baby fuzz of her blonde hair has grown an inch, and whisks out along the sides of her face as she looks up to Rey. 

"Let me help change out that bandage while we wait for bubba to finish cleaning the fish." She leaves the stove, and pulls out a chair at the table. Rey stares at it, because the gesture is almost...comfortable?

It feels like shes not being held captive? 

She hesitates and sits down onto the chair as it faces away from the table and to another one placed just in front  of it. Phasma disappears down the hallway and reappears with a small bundle of supplies. She plops down in front of Rey and begins to unwrap the bandage. "I suppose you hadnt seen Luke anywhere? I thought i heard him this mornin' but it coulda just been me hearing things." Her blue eyes flicker up from her task to look at Rey. 

And she pauses, eyebrows crinkling a fraction. 

"I suppose he aint comin' back- is he?" Her voice cracks, and Rey feels like she is about to vomit everywhere. How did she know? Will the rest of them know? 

Phasma must sense this because she pats her arm softly. "I heard what he said to you... You better be glad it was me that woke up first this mornin- and not Leia."  So she heard it all? How long had she been awake? Did that mean the others knew? Her stomach curdles threateningly, and she stifles the beginnings of a breakdown with her good hand. 

As if on cue a soft pinch on her bad hand and the gauze falls away from her hand. The sight makes her gut wretch even more. A rough noise ripples through her, and shes lost to whether its a cry for help or a dry-heave. Probably both. 

 "Shhh shh. No more of that, right? Remember what I told you. Now hold it together and just know I aint rattin' out any body. Specially not Bubba." Her small hands grab at Rey's face and wipes the tears that form there. Messily trailing them down her cheeks and to her hairline. "I wish I could say you can go lay down and rest. But that time is gone, and mama expects you to be complying. But for now, while she's at church, go and try and rest. Ill come get you, when I need your help."  

Rey nods. Suddenly grateful and sits quietly watching, as her hand gets bandaged up.

 

 

Phasma edges from the chair when a loud noise echoes from outside, and the door opens quickly. Rey stands quickly, almost knocking the chair back,  and stands quietly watching as Ben walks into the house and slams the door behind him.

Ben stares off into the distance for a moment, fingers twitching at his side before his gaze is on her. Before _hes_ on her, having crossed the room in a few steps, its so quick that she barely makes to run. But its too late, as she feels herself being tossed onto sweaty shoulders. 

"Ben, Ben- let me go. Please. Please just let me go." And now shes a quivering mess, and where was the strong minded person she told herself to be?

She just wasnt ready for the mood change, she tells herself, as she watches him cover the stairs in record timing. 

She knows where hes going before he gets there. The room, the _fucking_ room.

 "Please don't, please I- I beg of you!!!" Shes crying nonsense, and then shes being tossed onto the bed with such force that her head cracks against the wall. 

White spots flicker across her vision, and all she wants to do is just curl up. But she doesn't, not when the door clicks shut and hes crossing the room.

The sound of ripping, and his shirt falls to the floor. And all she can see through the pain in her skull, and the fear in her heart, is the blanketing of scars tattooed into his pale skin. 

"Please." Her voice cracks, and she mouths the word once again as he crawls up onto the small bed, swallowing it up with mere size alone.

His hand presses firmly onto the bottom half of her face, smearing tears, and pinching the skin of her lips against her teeth. His hand smells of copper and it burns into her skin.

"Rey." Her name rolls from his lips. His voice is so disturbingly soft that it sounds wrong when paired with the moment. "Y-you've got to _p-play_ along. So let m-me make you feel good, f-for the sake of it." His lips are soft against the shell of her ear, and her body relaxes a little. 

Play? What did he mean-

She seizes up once more as she feels his tongue lick a stripe up the side of her jaw, and bites at a moan from the way his teeth nip at the soft flesh of her neck. She shutters, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to feel. 

But its a shock to her system, because its been so long since shes been touched, so long that she almost forgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry it has taken this long!!!  
> Ive had most of it written, but school and depression caught up to me and its been hard to do much else.  
> So, I hope you guys like it. Rest assured, more will be coming soon. Things will begin to piece together and begin to make sense, I promise.
> 
> In the next few chapters things begin to heat up, too.


End file.
